Cemetery

CYPRESS LEAVES

CEMETERY

The sweet, the ageless night

Softly laves

His gentle breath

Upon these graves.

Who hears the nymph-like wind

Caught breathless in the tree?

Her song falls on their rotting ears,

And none can see

The swift and startled moon

Tossed on an ambushed reef,

And each shadow flying

Like a hunted thief... .

O cold, O soul-forsaken dust !-

These hearts have long been stilled,

These shallow holes have long been dug

And filled.

I shall not rest when death has brought

Me to a narrow room;

The night shall know the muffled scratch

Of fingers on a tomb.