In the earth—the earth—thou shalt be laid,
A grey stone standing over thee;
Black mould beneath thee spread,
And black mould to cover thee."Well—there is rest there,
So fast come thy prophecy;
The time when my sunny
Shall with grass roots entwined be."But cold—cold is that resting-place,
Shut out from joy and liberty,
And all who loved thy living
Will shrink from it shudderingly,"Not so.
RE the world is chill,
And sworn friends fall from me:
But
RE—they will own me still,
And prize my memory."Farewell, then, all that love,
All that deep sympathy:
Sleep on:
Heaven laughs above,
Earth never misses thee.
Turf-sod and tombstone
Part human company;
One heart breaks only—here,
But that heart was worthy thee!
