narrative poetry

love has been sung a thousand ways
let us pity those who are better off than we are
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
sweet splendor
i bid them all farewell
one sweetly solemn thought
to clothe the fiery thought
i love the old melodious lays
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
see the tentative
as evening falls