Explore "A Burial" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
To-day I had a burial of my dead. / There was no shroud, no coffin, and no pall, / No prayers were uttered and no tears were shed -- / I only turned a picture to the wall.
A picture that had hung within my room / For years and years; a relic of my youth. / It kept the rose of love in constant bloom / To see those eyes of earnestness and truth.