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.

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious read more

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.

Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.

Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.

We weep over the graves of infants and the little ones taken from us by death; but an early grave read more

We weep over the graves of infants and the little ones taken from us by death; but an early grave may be the shortest way to heaven.

The grave's the market place.

The grave's the market place.

Gravestones tell truth scarce forty years.

Gravestones tell truth scarce forty years.

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.

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.

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.