They lie at rest, our blessed dead; The dews drop cool above their head, They knew not when fleet summer fled. Together all, yet each alone; Smooth turf or white allotted stone. When shall our slumber sink so deep, And eyes that wept and eyes that weep Weep not in the sufficient sleep? God be with you, our great and small, Our loves, our best beloved of all, Our own beyond the salt sea-wall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUPPLICATION by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. TO MOSCOW by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR THE FIRST BLUEBIRD by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT by JONATHAN SWIFT IDYLLS OF THE KING: GARETH AND LYNETTE by ALFRED TENNYSON |