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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: 5, by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON Poet's Biography
First Line: What wast thou, little baby, that art dead
Last Line: Enough for us, thou wast thy baby self.
Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies
First Line: What wast thou, little baby, that art dead
Last Line: Enough for us, thou wast thy baby self.
Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies
What wast thou, little baby, that art dead --
A one day's blossom that the hoar-frost nips?
A bee that's crushed, the first bright day it sips?
A small dropped gem that in the earth we tread?
Or cherub's smiling gold-encircled head,
That Death from out Life's painted missal rips?
Or murmured prayer that barely reached the lips?
Or sonnet's fair first line -- the rest unsaid?
Oh, 'tis not hard to find what thou wast like;
The world is full of fair unfinished things
That vanish like a dawn-admonished elf.
Life teems with opening forms for Death to strike;
The woods are full of unfledged broken wings;
Enough for us, thou wast thy baby self.
Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!
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THE LOST CHILDREN by RANDALL JARRELL
THE MOURNER by LOUISE MOREY BOWMAN
MELANCHOLY; AN ODE by WILLIAM BROOME
SISTERS IN ARMS by AUDRE LORDE
A BOTANICAL TROPE by WILLIAM MEREDITH
FOR MOHAMMED ZEID OF GAZA, AGE 15 by NAOMI SHIHAB NYE
SUNKEN GOLD by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON