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Nigh to a grave that was newly made,
Leaned a sexton old on his earth-worn spade.
Nigh to a grave that was newly made,
Leaned a sexton old on his earth-worn spade.
The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny.
The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny.
Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.
Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.
I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came read more
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.
The grave's the market place.
The grave's the market place.
Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? read more
Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? The funeral
Made the attraction, and the black the woe;
There throbb'd not there a thought which pierc'd the pall.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
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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.