We mourned with you then in brotherhood,</br>And I'll weep with you now for those whose names</br>Burn on your monuments like altar flames. - Donald Davidson

We, too, have names that blaze on mouldering stone</br>And I have seen men's tears fall where they slept</br>And heard a shouting while I wept,</br>A century off yet louder in my ear</br>Than all that's so much magnified and near.

For he has seen a road by healing waters</br>Hushed into wintry slate against the sand,</br>And spoken there with the wind's elfin daughters,</br>And mingled in their dusty saraband.</br></br>He has known winds that blow from blossomy closes,</br>Rich with the fruity smell of summertide,</br>And kissed warm faery lips... Now he reposes,</br>While we are not quite certain he has died.

Then let my skeleton soul</br>Writhe upward from its loam,</br>Drink red morning again,</br>And look gently home.