Elegy Before Death by Edna St. Vincent Millay

There will be rose and rhododendron
…When you are dead and under ground;
Still will be heard from white syringas
…Heavy with bees, a sunny sound;

Still will the tamaracks be raining
…After the rain has ceased, and still
Will there be robins in the stubble,
…Grey sheep upon the warm green hill.

Spring will not ail nor autumn falter;
…Nothing will know that you are gone, –
Saving alone some sullen plough-land
…None but yourself sets foot upon;

Saving the may-weed and the pig-weed
…Nothing will know that you are dead, –
These, and perhaps a useless wagon
…Standing beside some tumbled shed.

Oh, there will pass with your great passing
…Little of beauty not your own, –
Only the light from common water,
…Only the grace from simple stone!

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In The Churchyard At Tarrytown by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

..In The Churchyard at Tarrytown

Here lies the gentle humorist, who died
…In the bright Indian Summer of his fame!
…A simple stone, with but a date and name,
…Marks his secluded resting-place beside
The river that he loved and glorified.
…Here in the autumn of his days he came,
…But the dry leaves of life were all aflame
…With tints that brightened and were multiplied.
How sweet a life was his; how sweet a death!
…Living, to wing with mirth the weary hours,
…Or with romantic tales the heart to cheer;
Dying, to leave a memory like the breath
…Of summers full of sunshine and of showers,
…A grief and gladness in the atmosphere.

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*written at the death of Washington Irving

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