Maryland,
Virginia,
Pent images in
Clay valleys rocky hills old fields of
Unspeakable and
Out of that source of time my farthest
Runs strangely to this
Unkempt the fathers waste in
Under the hills of
Far from their woe fled to its thither
To a river in
In an alien house I will
Yet find their breath to
All that my stars betide-There some time to
Took wife and child with me,
When it is all over and the
Runs out, do not bury this
By the far river (where never
His fathers) flowing to the West,
But take him East where life brothers, there is
In the depths of an eastward
That I can understand;
Do not think the truth we holdI hold the slighter for this
Reservation of the heart:
Men cannot live
But they must die
So take this body at
To the great stream whose pulses
In the blue hills, and
These ashes drift from the Long
Where only a late gull
That deep and populous grave.
By the great river the forefathers to
Them, being inconceivably young, carved
Deep hollows of memory on a river
Now lost-their murmur the ghost of a
In the hollows where the
Without beards, their faces bright and long,
Lay down at sunset by the cool
In the tall willows amid birdsong;
And the long sleep by the cool
They've slept full and long, till now the
Waits twilit for their echo; the burning
Of August strikes like a hawk the crouching hare.
