The Dead

Mathilde Blind 1841 (Mannheim) – 1896 (London)



The dead abide with us! Though stark and cold
Earth seems to grip them, they are with us still:
They have forged our chains of being for good or ill;
And their invisible hands these hands yet hold.
Our perishable bodies are the mould
In which their strong imperishable will--
Mortality's deep yearning to fulfil--
Hath grown incorporate through dim time untold.

Vibrations infinite of life in death,
As a star's travelling light survives its star!
So may we hold our lives, that when we are
The fate of those who then will draw this breath,
They shall not drag us to their judgment bar,
And curse the heritage which we bequeath.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

34 sec read
74

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABBAABBA CDDCDX
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 636
Words 114
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 8, 6

Mathilde Blind

Mathilde Blind, was a German-born British poet. Her work was praised by Matthew Arnold and French politician and historian Louis Blanc. more…

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    "The Dead" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/27077/the-dead>.

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