Collected poems of Herman Melville :: :: University of Virginia Library

368

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Skimming over the Poem a book, he tables it, and after sipping a cup of peevish tea, dwells upon the first verse.

Pale “Glory-walks-by-Valor's-bier.”
Now why a catafalque in close?
No relish I that stupid cheer
Ringing down the curtain on the Rose.