Write on my grave when I am dead, Whatever road I trod That I admired and honoured The wondrous works of God. That all the days and years I had, The greatest and the least, Each day with grateful heart and glad I sat me to a feast. That not alone for body's meat Which takes the lowest place I gave Him grace when I did eat And with a shining face. But for the spirit filled and fed That else must waste and die, With sun and stars replenished And dew and evening sky. The beauty of the hills and seas Brimmed that immortal cup; And when I went by fields and trees My heart was lifted up. Lap me in the green grass and write Upon the daisied sod That still I praised with all my might The wondrous works of God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SCILLA'S METAMORPHOSIS: MELANCHOLY by THOMAS LODGE AFTER THE PLEASURE PARTY by HERMAN MELVILLE SONNET: 15. TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX by JOHN MILTON LINCOLN by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE by ROBERT SOUTHEY A MATCH by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |