Here in my garden I have lovely stones, All old and grey and some with knobs of pearl; Stones with their silver sides, and amber backs, With mossy dimples and with horns that curl. Would that this rockery were my grave indeed, The monument where lie my buried bones: Though people coming here to think of me Might well forget, and stay to worship stones! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COWLEY: THE GARDEN by ALEXANDER POPE THE MOURNER A LA MODE by JOHN GODFREY SAXE TENNYSON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE HALCYON BIRDS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET MY VOCATION by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER THE STATESMEN by AMBROSE BIERCE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 26. ASKING FOR HER HEART. CHRISTMAS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |