Lines Addressed to the Spectre of an Elderly Gentleman, Recently Demised

I saw you, seated on a horse's head
While the blaspheming carter cut the traces,
Obese, white-waistcoated, and newly fed,
Through bland indifferent monocle surveying
The gaping circle of indifferent faces.

And now the news has come that you are dead
I see you, while they cut the tangled traces,
On your own hearse's fallen horse's head,
Through bland indifferent monocle surveying
The unseeing circle of funereal faces.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.