01 November 2017

Smile.


DIRGE

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 rock in the ancient waves,  
Where the snow falls by thousands into the sea,  
   And the drown’d and the shipwreck’d have happy graves.



Thomas Lovell Beddoes

No comments:

Post a Comment