OH! come, come with me, to the old kirk yard, I well know the path through the soft green sward Friends slumber there we were wont to regard, We'll trace out their names in the old kirk yard. Oh! mourn not for them, their grief is o'er, Oh! weep not for them, they weep no more, For deep is their sleep, though cold and hard Their pillow may be in the old kirk yard. I know it is in vain, when friends depart, To breathe kind words to a broken heart; I know that the joy of life seems marr'd When we follow them home to the old kirk yard. But were I at rest beneath yon tree, Why shouldst thou weep, dear love, for me; I'm wayworn and sad, ah! why then retard The rest that I seek in the old kirk yard? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAN TO BE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AN AMERICAN IN BANGKOK by KAREN SWENSON IN A COPY OF OMAR KHAYYAM by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SWEET MEETING OF DESIRES by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE THE GREAT FIGURE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ANDRE'S LAST REQUEST [OR, REQUEST TO WASHINGTON] [OCTOBER 1, 1780] by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS |