New Poems

Now when the number

NOW when the number of my years

Is all fulfilled, and I

From sedentary life

Shall rouse me up to die,

Bury me low and let me lie

Under the wide and starry sky.

Joying to live, I joyed to die,

Bury me low and let me lie.

Clear was my soul, my deeds were free,

Honour was called my name,

I fell not back from fear

Nor followed after fame.

Bury me low and let me lie

Under the wide and starry sky.

Joying to live, I joyed to die,

Bury me low and let me lie.

Bury me low in valleys green

And where the milder breeze

Blows fresh along the stream,

Sings roundly in the trees--

Bury me low and let me lie

Under the wide and starry sky.

Joying to live, I joyed to die,

Bury me low and let me lie.