The Dead by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The speaker draws near in spirit to the dead, who rest in silent graves as their bodies decay. Free from tears and joy, they slumber beneath cypresses until an angel calls them.
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow · Genre: Elegiac Poetry, Religious Poetry · 127 words
First lines
By Ernst Stockmann
How they so softly rest, / All they the holy ones, / Unto whose dwelling-place / Now doth my soul draw near! / How they so softly rest, / All in their silent graves, / Deep to corruption / Slowly don-sinking!
And they no longer weep, / Here, where complaint is still! / And they no longer feel, / Here, where all gladness flies! / And, by the cypresses / Softly o'ershadowed / Until the Angel / Calls them, they slumber!
Genres
- Elegiac Poetry — The speaker contemplates the silent graves of the dead and their release from weeping and feeling.
- Religious Poetry — The dead are called holy ones, and their sleep lasts until an angel summons them.
Tags
death · graves · cypresses · angels · rest
What this Textopian page supports
The Dead is listed on Textopian as a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, dated Date unknown.
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- Work type: Poem
- Author: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Date: Date unknown
- Language: English
- Genres: Elegiac Poetry, Religious Poetry
- Length: 127 words
- Structure: 1 section, 3 paragraphs
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