Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BRASHEANNA; SONNETS ON PETER BRASH, A PUBLICAN: 3, by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON


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BRASHEANNA; SONNETS ON PETER BRASH, A PUBLICAN: 3, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: There let us often wend our pensive way
Last Line: Gibbers and gurgles at the shades of men.
Alternate Author Name(s): Stevenson, Robert Lewis Balfour
Subject(s): Bars & Bartenders; Pubs; Taverns; Saloons


There let us often wend our pensive way,
There often pausing celebrate the past;
For though indeed our BRASH be dead at last,
Perchance his spirit, in some minor way,
Nor pure immortal nor entirely dead,
Contrives upon the farther shore of death
To pick a rank subsistence, and for breath
Breathes ague, and drinks creosote of lead,
There, on the way to that infernal den,
Where burst the flames forth thickly, and the sky
Flares horrid through the murk methinks he doles
Damned liquors out to Hellward-faring souls,
And as his impotent anger ranges high
Gibbers and gurgles at the shades of men.





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