Page:Poems Carmichael.djvu/23

Dead.

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  Not for the life whose pain is o'er;
    Not for the spirit fled.
  Yet weep for the bosom numb and still!
  Dead, for it felt no patriot thrill;
  Dead, for it had no life to spill;
    Dead to the core—dead!
  Dead as the hate of an idiot glance;
  Dead as the steel of a broken lance;
  Dead as a last neglected chance:
          Dead!

Weep for the dead! Not those who claim
Immortal life on the scroll of Fame;
  Not for the soul that feared but shame;
  Not for the life that reached its aim;
  Not for the step that marked in flame
    Print of a hero's tread.
  Weep for the dead that breathe and speak!
  Dead, with a life bloom on the cheek;
  Dead, for they have no aim to seek;
    Dead to the core—dead!
  Dead as the use of a wasted hour;
  Dead as the dew on a poison flower;
  Dead as a soul's crime-palsied power:
          Dead!

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