I PRAY thee lay me not to rest Among these mouldering bones; Too heavily the earth is prest By all these crowded stones. Life is too gay -- life is too near -- With all its pomp and toil; I pray thee do not lay me here, In such a world-struck soil. The ceaseless roll of wheels would wake The slumbers of the dead; I cannot bear for life to make Its pathway o'er my head. The flags around are cold and drear, They stand apart, alone; And no one ever pauses here, To sorrow for the gone. No: lay me in the far green fields The summer sunshine cheers; And where the early wild flower yields The tribute of its tears. Where shadows the sepulchral yew, Where droops the willow tree, Where the long grass is filled with dew -- Oh! make such grave for me! And passers-by, at evening's close, Will pause beside the grave, And moralize o'er the repose They fear, and yet they crave. Perhaps some kindly hand may bring Its offering to the tomb; As say, As fades the rose in spring, So fadeth human bloom. But here there is no kindly thought To soothe, and to relieve; No fancies and no flowers are brought, That soften while they grieve. Here Poesy and Love come not -- It is a world of stone; The grave is bought -- is closed -- forgot! And then life hurries on. Sorrow and beauty -- nature -- love -- Redeem man's common breath; Ah! let them shed the grave above -- Give loveliness to death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BABY'S SHOES by WILLIAM COX BENNETT MILTON'S PRAYER [OF PATIENCE, OR, IN BLINDNESS] by ELIZABETH LLOYD HOWELL UNDER THE SHADE OF THE TREES [MAY 10, 1863] by MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON AN EARNEST SUIT [TO HIS UNKIND MISTRESS NOT TO FORESAKE HIM] by THOMAS WYATT SONG by MARGARET STEELE ANDERSON I SHALL HAVE PEACE AGAIN (WRITTEN AFTER READING 'RIDERS TO THE SEA' by FLORA LOUISE BAILEY |