Archive for January 4th, 2015

Sunday, 4 January 2015

At an Unmarked Mound by James Alexander Macphail

Dust unto dust? Nay, shallow laid, she stirs,
I guess, when springtime and the streamlets call,
Even though, the while, her ever-thickening pall
Is wrought by the deft needles of the firs.
Ashes to ashes: still, I fancy hers
Must glow if any human breath at all
Shall breathe upon them, though the winter fall
A fathom deep, and doubly sure inters.

Faint as she whinnies in this studied rhyme,
Yet if a human child but shed a tear
For her, she rises, answering tears with mirth,
To roam through pastures green the livelong year;
So she lives on, till, in a little time,
All living turns to earth: earth unto earth.


Date: 1907

By: James Alexander Macphail (1870-1949)