They took dead men's souls
And pinned them on their breasts for ornament;
Their cuff-links and tiaras
Were gems dug from a grave;
They were ghouls battening on exhumed thoughts;
And I took a green liqueur from a servant
So that he might come near me
And give me the comfort of a living thing.
Talk
Amy Lowell
(1)
Poem topics: green, grave, comfort, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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