421. Epitaph on a Lap-dog

by
 IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng,
 Your heavy loss deplore;
Now, half extinct your powers of song,
 Sweet Echo is no more.
Ye jarring, screeching things around, Scream your discordant joys; Now, half your din of tuneless sound With Echo silent lies.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - 421. Epitaph on a Lap-dogEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...



Top Robert Burns Poems

Analysis and Comments on 421. Epitaph on a Lap-dog

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem 421. Epitaph on a Lap-dog here.