Poetry Archives

This is the end of all my ways,
      My wanderings on earth,
My gloomy and my golden days,
      My madness and my mirth.
I’ve bought ten thousand blades of grass
      To bed me down below,
And here I wait the days to pass
            Until I go.

Until I bid good bye to friend,
      To feast and fast goodbye,
And in a stint of soil the end
      I seek of sun and sky.
My farings far on land and sea,
      My trails of global girth
Sum up to this,—to cover me
            Six feet of earth.

My home of homes I hold in fee
      For centuries to pass,
When snug my skeleton will be
      And grin up through the grass;
When my grey ghost will bend above,
      And grieve to gracious God
This endless end of life and love,—
            Six feet of sod.