THE GRAVE
[_]
(originally No. lvii.) [of In Memoriam]
(Unpublished)
I keep no more a lone distress,
The crowd have come to see thy grave,
Small thanks or credit shall I have,
But these shall see it none the less.
The happy maiden's tears are free
And she will weep and give them way;
Yet one unschool'd in want will say
“The dead are dead and let them be.”
Another whispers sick with loss:
“O let the simple slab remain!
The ‘Mercy Jesu’
in the rain!
The ‘Miserere’
in the moss!
“I love the daisy weeping dew,
I hate the trim-set plots of art!”
My friend, thou speakest from the heart,
But look, for these are nature too.
