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167
MY OWN GRAVE.
When all my life is done
Beneath the pleasant sun,
When cold are breath and limb,
And eyes grown dim,
Beneath the pleasant sun,
When cold are breath and limb,
And eyes grown dim,
Before the whole live air
Grows dead to me, prepare
A cover for my face,
A resting-place.
Grows dead to me, prepare
A cover for my face,
A resting-place.
Yet raise no splendid tomb,
Nor o'er my dust find room
For blazoned words, but let
The world forget.
Nor o'er my dust find room
For blazoned words, but let
The world forget.
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In some sequestered spot,
Apart, concealed, remote,
Blown round by multitudes
Of breezy woods,
Apart, concealed, remote,
Blown round by multitudes
Of breezy woods,
Broad skies above my head,
Green turf my body's bed,
And, flowing by my side,
A river wide.
Green turf my body's bed,
And, flowing by my side,
A river wide.
There let me too forget
All sorrow, pain and fret,
Made one with flowers and trees,
And blithe like these.
All sorrow, pain and fret,
Made one with flowers and trees,
And blithe like these.
Green spring, and sunlight shed
On summer's golden head,
Rich autumn warm with light,
And winter white,
On summer's golden head,
Rich autumn warm with light,
And winter white,
169
Will bring, with various cheer,
The sweet revolving year,
And I shall rest below
And scarcely know.
The sweet revolving year,
And I shall rest below
And scarcely know.
Yet haply, when there shoots
March life in crabbed roots,
My heart shall wake to feel
It upward steal.
March life in crabbed roots,
My heart shall wake to feel
It upward steal.
The new-fledged birds shall bring
Me solace when they sing,
And stir the boughs that meet
Above my feet.
Me solace when they sing,
And stir the boughs that meet
Above my feet.
And when the bees in tune
Hum dreamily of June,
While over heaven on high
Soft clouds float by,
Hum dreamily of June,
While over heaven on high
Soft clouds float by,
170
The long sweet grass will fade,
And in brown swathes be laid
By many a whistling scythe
Of mowers blithe;
And in brown swathes be laid
By many a whistling scythe
Of mowers blithe;
The men will whistle too
Till twilight brings the dew,
Then leave the fallen grass
And homeward pass.
Till twilight brings the dew,
Then leave the fallen grass
And homeward pass.
Their singing, low and sweet,
Vibration of their feet,
The sense of youth again,
Will sooth my brain.
Vibration of their feet,
The sense of youth again,
Will sooth my brain.
With face and limbs and hair
Dark on the misty air,
They'll pass my dreaming eyes,
When daylight dies
Dark on the misty air,
They'll pass my dreaming eyes,
When daylight dies
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And e'er September's wind
The elm-tree shade has thinned,
When rushes droop, and reeds
Shake out their seeds,
The elm-tree shade has thinned,
When rushes droop, and reeds
Shake out their seeds,
When autumn sunsets make
A glory through the brake,
And down the woodland glades
The amber fades,
A glory through the brake,
And down the woodland glades
The amber fades,
Some maiden-heart on fire,
Shamed with her new desire,
Just waked to passionate will,
And trembling still,
Shamed with her new desire,
Just waked to passionate will,
And trembling still,
Will come to hide her face
With all its girlish grace,
Where shining waters lave
My greenwood grave.
With all its girlish grace,
Where shining waters lave
My greenwood grave.
172
Her wealth of shining tress
And glowing cheek will bless
The cool fresh blades that start
Out of my heart.
And glowing cheek will bless
The cool fresh blades that start
Out of my heart.
There silent, hushed, alone,
No face to shame her own,
She'll give her quivering breast
One hour of rest.
No face to shame her own,
She'll give her quivering breast
One hour of rest.
And I, perchance, who know
So well the weal and woe
Of love, and oft before
Have taught its lore,
So well the weal and woe
Of love, and oft before
Have taught its lore,
Through stress of love may gain
Some skill to quell her pain,
And send through blade and flower
Some magic power.
Some skill to quell her pain,
And send through blade and flower
Some magic power.
173
Howe'er it be, I know
That lying there below,
My quiet dust will stir
With joy in her;
That lying there below,
My quiet dust will stir
With joy in her;
That all her youth will be
Like noonday rain to me,
Her beauty like the sun
When rain is done.
Like noonday rain to me,
Her beauty like the sun
When rain is done.
Then let them shed no tear
Who hold my memory dear,
But pass and leave me there,
In woodland air.
Who hold my memory dear,
But pass and leave me there,
In woodland air.
Hemmed round by birds and bees,
To haunt the murmuring trees,
When all this life is done
Beneath the sun.
To haunt the murmuring trees,
When all this life is done
Beneath the sun.
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