When Bony Death

John Masefield

1878 to 1967

Poem Image
Track 1

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And changed her glorious beauty into mud
Then grant, old Time, to my green mouldering skull,
When all the roses that she sowed in me
When an old lichened marble strives to tell
When bony Death has chilled her gentle blood,
When rheumy grey-beards say, “I knew her well,”
Leaving no greenery on any tree
By his old skill in hateful wizardries;
These songs may keep her memory beautiful.
Showing the grave to curious worshippers;
That her dear hands in my heart’s garden laid,
And dimmed the brightness of her wistful eyes,
How sweet a grace, how red a lip was hers;
Have dripped their crimson petals and decayed,

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