LET thy wheel-barrow alone -- Wherefore, Sexton, piling still In thy bone-house bone on bone? 'Tis already like a hill In a field of battle made, Where three thousand skulls are laid; These died in peace each with the other, -- Father, sister, friend, and brother. Mark the spot to which I point! From this platform, eight feet square, Take not even a finger-joint: Andrew's whole fire-side is there. Here, alone, before thine eyes, Simon's sickly daughter lies, From weakness now, and pain defended, Whom he twenty winters tended. Look but at the gardener's pride -- How he glories, when he sees Roses, lilies, side by side, Violets in families! By the heart of Man, his tears, By his hopes and by his fears, Thou, too heedless, art the Warden Of a far superior garden. Thus then, each to other dear, Let them all in quiet lie, Andrew there, and Susan here, Neighbours in mortality. And, should I live through sun and rain Seven widowed years without my Jane, O Sexton, do not then remove her, Let one grave hold the Loved and Lover! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ISADORA DUNCAN DANCING 'IPHIGENIA IN AULIS' by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TWO FUNERALS: 2. by LOUIS UNTERMEYER HUMPTY DUMPTY RECITATION [OR, SONG] by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE CRADLE SONG OF THE POOR by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER THE SOBBING OF THE BELLS (MIDNIGHT, SEPT. 19-20, 1881) by WALT WHITMAN THE MISTRESS; A SONG by JOHN WILMOT VERSES DESIGNED TO BE SENT TO MR. ADAMS by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST |