|
Thursday, February 10, 2005
from Dirge
Thomas Lovell Beddoes
We do lie beneath the grass
In the moonlight, in the shade
Of the yew-tree. They that pass
Hear us not. We are afraid
They would envy our delight,
In our graves by glow-worm night.
Come follow us, and smile as we;
We sail to the rocks in the ancient waves,
Where the snow falls, by thousands into the sea,
And the drowned and the shipwrecked have happy graves.
posted by gbarto at 11:48 PM
| 
