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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One foot in the grave.
One foot in the grave.
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.
A grave, wherever found, preaches a short and pithy sermon to the soul.
A grave, wherever found, preaches a short and pithy sermon to the soul.
And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then read more
And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays.
Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
read more
Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
With here and there a violet bestrown,
Fast by a brook or fountain's murmuring wave;
And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
O how small a portion of earth will hold us when we are dead, who ambitiously seek after the whole read more
O how small a portion of earth will hold us when we are dead, who ambitiously seek after the whole world while we are living.
The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny.
The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny.
Do you recall that night in June
Upon the Danube River;
We listened to the landler-tune,
read more
Do you recall that night in June
Upon the Danube River;
We listened to the landler-tune,
We watched the moonbeams quiver.
