Classic Poem

Through valley depths, with slow sad pace
There rode a horseman brave;
Am I riding now to my true love's arms,
Or towards the dreary grave?

The mountain answer gave:
" The dreary grave. "

And farther the horseman rode on his way,
With labouring sighs oppressed;
" Then must I pass to my grave so soon?
Maybe the grave is rest. "

The voice sank in his breast:
" The grave is rest. "

One single tear the horseman shed,
And sad from his cheek it fell;
" And if in the grave I can only find rest,
To be in the grave is well. "

The voice rang like a knell:
" The grave is well. "