Explore "In Death Divided" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I. I SHALL rot here, with those whom in their day / You never knew, / And alien ones who, ere they chilled to clay, / Met not my view, / Will in your distant grave-place ever neighbour you.
II. No shade of pinnacle or tree or tower, / While earth endures, / Will fall on my mound and within the hour / Steal on to yours; / One robin never haunt our two green covertures.
III. Some organ may resound on Sunday noons / By where you lie, / Some other thrill the panes with other tunes / Where moulder I; / No selfsame chords compose our common lullaby.
IV. The simply-cut memorial at my head / Perhaps may take / A Gothic form, and that above your bed / Be Greek in make; / No linking symbol show thereon for our tale's sake.
V. And in the monotonous moils of strained, hard-run / Humanity, / The eternal tie which binds us twain in one / No eye will see / Stretching across the miles that sever you from me.