Classic Poem

Bury me on the hill top,
Where sunbeams earliest come,
And starlight longest lingers —
Make there your Brother's home;
There, through the hours of darkness,
The glittering hosts will pass,
And dewdrops weep my requiem,
And night winds sigh, Alas! —
When I am dead .

But not by ocean billow,
Oh, not on briny shore,
This form consign to nature —
I hate its hollow roar;
Cold weeds and sea things floating
Above me, on the wave,
Would vex my spirit's slumber
In that unquiet grave,
When I am dead .

No stone to mark my resting —
No gentle form to bow —
Oh, Brothers true and tender,
Lay not your Brother so;
Within my soul a yearning
Impleads a Mason's home —
Bury me on the hill top,
Where sunbeams earliest come,
When I am dead .