By a Bier-Side

  This is a sacred city built of marvellous earth.

  Life was lived nobly here to give such beauty birth.

  Beauty was in this brain and in this eager hand:

  Death is so blind and dumb Death does not understand.

  Death drifts the brain with dust and soils the young limbs' glory,

  Death makes justice a dream, and strength a traveller's story.

  Death drives the lovely soul to wander under the sky.

  Death opens unknown doors.  It is most grand to die.