Mark Van Doren

Farewell and Thanksgiving

 Next Poem          

Whatever I have left unsaid
When I am dead
O'muse forgive me.
You were always there,
like light, like air.
Those great good things
of which the least bird sings,
So why not I?
Yet thank you even then,
Sweet muse, Amen.

Next Poem 

 Back to Mark Van Doren