Walking together when the leaves are red, Where all the local patriarchs lie rotten, We smiled to think the optimistic dead Take such precautions not to be forgotten. Indeed, we said, wherever the grave is dug She that was lovely, lovely is no longer; And he that makes acquaintance with the slug, Though cased in steel, shall find the slug the stronger. So we went laughing over the doors of death And read the lofty words on sunken stone, Tasting exultantly our deep-drawn breath Among so many breathless -- dust and bone. Then laughter drowned and the lips had little to say. We saw the child's grave, freshly turned and bare; But some more grieved and trusting hand than ours Had smoothed the soggy earth and set with care Six china pigs impertinently gay, Bespectacled and comic, on the loam. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MONODY ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM MARION REEDY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE ENGLISH GRAVEYARD IN MALACCA by KAREN SWENSON AMERICAN NAMES by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET BRAID CLAITH by ROBERT FERGUSSON AN ANCIENT PROPHECY by PHILIP FRENEAU THE ENAMEL GIRL by GENEVIEVE TAGGARD |