I PRAY thee lay me not to rest
Among these mouldering bones;
Too heavily the earth is prest
By all these crowded stones.
Life is too gay-life is too near-
With all its pomp and toil;
I pray thee do not lay me here,
In such a world-struck soil.
The ceaseless roll of wheels would wake
The slumbers of the dead;
I cannot bear for life to make
Its pathway o'er my head.
The flags around are cold and drear,
They stand apart, alone;
And no one ever pauses here,
To sorrow for the gone.
No: lay me in the far green fields
The summer sunshine cheers;
And where the early wild flower yields
The tribute of its tears.
Where shadows the sepulchral yew,
Where droops the willow tree,
Where the long grass is filled with dew-
Oh! make such grave for me!
And passers-by, at evening's close,
Will pause beside the grave,
And moralize o'er the repose
They fear, and yet they crave.
Perhaps some kindly hand may bring
Its offering to the tomb;
And say, As fades the rose in spring,
So fadeth human bloom.
But here there is no kindly thought
To soothe, and to relieve;
No fancies and no flowers are brought,
That soften while they grieve.
Here Poesy and Love come not-
It is a world of stone;
The grave is bought-is closed-forgot!
And then life hurries on.
Sorrow and beauty-nature-love-
Redeem man's common breath;
Ah! let them shed the grave above-
Give loveliness to death.
Scenes In London Iv - The City Churchyard
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Poem topics: alone, beauty, breath, death, fear, flower, green, nature, rose, spring, summer, sunshine, tree, evening, head, wild, earth, grass, human, long, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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