The Dying Of Pere Pierre
". . . with two other priests; the same night he died, and was buried by the shores of the lake that bears his name." Chronicle."Nay, grieve not that ye can no honour give To these poor bones that presently must
But carrion; since I have sought to live Upon God's earth, as He hath guided me,
I shall not lack! Where would ye have me lie?
High heaven is higher than cathedral nave:
Do men paint chancels fairer than the sky?" Beside the darkened lake they made his grave,
Below the altar of the hills; and night Swung incense clouds of mist in creeping
That twisted through the tree-trunks, where the light Groped through the arches of the silent pines:
And he, beside the lonely path he trod,
Lay, tombed in splendour, in the House of God.
John McCrae
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An uphill path, sun-gleams between the showers, Where every beam that broke the leaden Lit other hills with fairer ways than ours; Some clustered graves where half our memories lie;
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My lover died a century ago, Her dear heart stricken by my sland'rous breath, Wherefore the Gods forbade that I should know The peace of death Men pass my grave, and say, 'Twere well to sleep,
