Author Barry Cornwall My brother 's dead! He was a man to seize The eagle Greatness in its flight, and wear Its feather in his casque. He 's dead:—he died Young; as the great will die; as Summer dies, By drought and its own fevers burned to death. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments