Explore "Death and Nature" by Frederic Manning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When my poor bones are hearsed in quiet clay, / And final sleep hath sealed my wondering eyes, / The moon as now will sail through tranquil skies; / The soft wind in the meadow-grasses play; / And sacred Eve, with half-closed eyelids, dream; / And Dawn, with rosy fingers, draw the veils / Of silver from her shining face; and gales / Sing loudly; and the rain from eaveshoots stream / With bubbling music. Seek my soul in these; / I am a part of them; and they will keep / Perchance the music which I wrought with tears.
When the moon shines above the silent trees / Your eyes shall see me; and when soft as sleep / Come murmurs of the rain, ah, bend your ears!