Warning and Reply

In the earth—the earth—thou shalt be laid,A grey stone standing over thee;Black mould beneath thee spread,And black mould to cover thee.

'Well—there is rest there,So fast come thy prophecy;The time when my sunny hairShall with grass roots entwined be.'

But cold—cold is that resting-place,Shut out from joy and liberty,And all who loved thy living faceWill shrink from it shudderingly.

'Not so. Here the world is chill,And sworn friends fall from me:But there—they will own me still,And prize my memory.'

Farewell, then, all that love,All that deep sympathy:Sleep on; Heaven laughs above,Earth never misses thee.

Turf-sod and tombstone drearPart human company;One heart breaks only—here,But that heart was worthy thee!