Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
William (Johnson) Cory. 18231892759. Heraclitus
THEY told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, | |
They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. | |
I wept as I remember’d how often you and I | |
Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky. | |
And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest, | 5 |
A handful of grey ashes, long, long ago at rest, | |
Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake; | |
For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take. |