It is a certain satisfaction to overlook a cemetery, All the little two-yard-long mounds that vary So negligibly after all. I mean it brings on a mood Of clear proportions. I remember once how I stood Thinking, one summer's day, how good it must be to spend Some thousand years there from beginning to the end, There on the cool hillside. But with that feeling grew the dread That I too would have to be like all the other dead. That unpleasant sense which one has when one smothers, Unhappy to leave so much behind merely to resemble others. It's good no doubt to lie socially well ordered when one has so long to lie, But for myself somehow this does not satisfy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DRIVING INTO LARAMIE by JAMES GALVIN PALABRAS CARINOSAS (SPANISH AIR) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE NEED OF BEING VERSED IN COUNTRY THINGS by ROBERT FROST PICTURES FROM APPLEDORE: 2 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE OLD MAN'S WISH by WALTER POPE SONNET: 106 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE JOHN BROWN OF OSAWATOMIE [OCTOBER 16, 1859] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN |