Classic Poem

Be where I may when death brings in his bill
Demanding payment for life's lingering debt —
Or in my native village nestling still,
Or tracing scenes I've never known as yet —
Oh let one wish (go where it will) be mine:
To turn me back and wander home to die,
'Mong nearest friends my latest breath resign,
And in my churchyard wi' my kindred lie,
Neath the thick shade's sycamores decay —
Its broad leaves trembling to the breeze of day —
To see its shadow o'er my ashes wave!
How soothing will it be, while, hovering near,
My unseen spirit haunts its daisied grave
Pausing on scenes that life once loved so dear.