PASSING feet pause, as they pass, By this little slab of slate. People, if they go this way, By the linchen'd wicket gate, At each other look and say, "Pity, pity! sad it was!" Here have fallen as many tears As the months in her short years. Seven and ten brief sunny springs; Scarce so many winter snows: Here the little speedwell keeps Watch beside the pale dog-rose; On this hillock, while she sleeps Underneath, the red-breast sings. Wedded on an April day! In the Autumn laid away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHUT OUT THAT MOON by THOMAS HARDY THE CHARGE AT SANTIAGO by WILLIAM HAMILTON HAYNE EPITAPH INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON, IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALEXANDER POPE SUMMER SUN by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |