I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came to lie
At rest within the ground,
'Twere pleasant, that in flowery June
When brooks send up a cheerful tune,
And groves a joyous sound,
The sexton's hand, my grave to make,
The rich, green mountain-turf should break.
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Gravestones tell truth scarce forty years.
Gravestones tell truth scarce forty years.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
He that unburied lies wants not his hearse,
For unto him a tomb's the Universe.
He that unburied lies wants not his hearse,
For unto him a tomb's the Universe.
I would rather sleep in the southern corner of a little country
churchyard, than in the tombs of the read more
I would rather sleep in the southern corner of a little country
churchyard, than in the tombs of the Capulets.
For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house
appointed for all living.
For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house
appointed for all living.
So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing,
So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see;
read more
So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing,
So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see;
So blithe and gay the humming-bird a going
From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee.
Perhaps the early grave
Which men weep over may be meant to save.
Perhaps the early grave
Which men weep over may be meant to save.
Who comes with Summer to this earth
And owes to June her day of birth,
With ring read more
Who comes with Summer to this earth
And owes to June her day of birth,
With ring of Agate on her hand,
Can health, wealth, and long life command.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
read more
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour,
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
