![]() | Collected poems of Herman Melville | ![]() |
AN EPITAPH
When Sunday tidings from the frontMade pale the priest and people,
And heavily the blessing went,
And bells were dumb in the steeple;
The Soldier's widow (summering sweetly here,
In shade by waving beeches lent)
Felt deep at heart her faith content,
And priest and people borrowed of her cheer.
![]() | Collected poems of Herman Melville | ![]() |