THE FUNERAL

They dressed us up in black,

Susan and Tom and me —

And, walking through the fields

All beautiful to see,

With branches high in the air

And daisy and buttercup,

We heard the lark in the clouds —

In black dressed up.

They took us to the graves,

Susan and Tom and me,

Where the long grasses grow

And the funeral tree:

We stood and watched; and the wind

Came softly out of the sky

And blew in Susan's hair,

As I stood close by.

Back through the fields we came,

Tom and Susan and me,

And we sat in the nursery together,

And had our tea.

And, looking out of the window,

I heard the thrushes sing;

But Tom fell asleep in his chair,

He was so tired, poor thing.