At The Grave Of Charles Lamb, In Edmonton
Not here, O teeming City, was it meet
Thy lover, thy most faithful, should repose,
But where the multitudinous life-tide flows
Whose ocean-murmur was to him more sweet
Than melody of birds at morn, or bleat
Of flocks in Spring-time, _there_ should Earth enclose
His earth, amid thy thronging joys and woes,
There, 'neath the music of thy million feet.
In love of thee this lover knew no peer.
Thine eastern or thy western fane had made
Fit habitation for his noble shade.
Mother of mightier, nurse of none more dear,
Not here, in rustic exile, O not here,
Thy Elia like an alien should be laid!
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (At The Grave Of Charles Lamb, In Edmonton by William Watson )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- The Photo, Kenneth Winstanley
- Really funny!, PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Daddy, Rimni chakravarty
- Colourless light contains all the colour.., Mohammad Siddiqui
- come on, laxami Cards
- Beloved God, Mohammad Siddiqui
- Beloved, Mohammad Siddiqui
- Life is beautiful, Mohammad Siddiqui
- Poetry: A Small Fighting Bulldog, Laijon Liu
- Lights connect to each other, Mohammad Siddiqui