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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: 7, by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON Poet's Biography
First Line: Mantled in purple dusk, imperial death
Last Line: "now let the little children come to me."
Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies
First Line: Mantled in purple dusk, imperial death
Last Line: "now let the little children come to me."
Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies
Mantled in purple dusk, Imperial Death,
Thy throne Time's mist, thy crown the clustered stars,
Thy orb the world; -- did Nature's countless wars
Yield insufficient incense for thy breath?
Hadst not enough with all who troop beneath
Thy inward-opening gates, whose shadowy bars
Give back nor kings in their triumphal cars,
Nor the worn throngs that old age hurrieth?
O sateless Death, most surely it was thou,
(A thousand ages, yea, and longer still,
Before the words were heard in Galilee)
That saidst with dark contraction of thy brow,
As through all Nature ran an icy chill:
"Now let the little children come to me."
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