Volume 3 — From The Month. BURY THE DEAD
Reading edition
"Give me a grave, that I made bury my dead out of my sight."--Genesis xxiii. Enwrapt in fair white shroud. With fragrant flowers strewn. With loving tears and holy prayers, And wailing loud, Shut out the light! Bury the Dead, bury the Dead, Out of my sight! {380} Corruption's touch will wrong The sacred Dead too soon; Then wreath the brow, the eyelids kiss; Delay not long, Behold the blight! Bury the Dead, bury the Dead, Out of our sight! But there are other Dead That will not buried be, That walk about in glaring day With noiseless tread. And stalk at night; Unburied Dead, unburied Dead, Ever in sight. Dear friendships snapt in twain. Sweet confidence betrayed, Old hopes forsworn, old loves worn out, Vows pledged in vain. There is no flight, Ye living, unrelenting Dead, Out of your sight. Oh! for a grave where I Might hide my Dead away! That sacred bond, that holy trust, How could it die? Out of my sight! O mocking Dead, unburied Dead, Out of my sight! O ever-living Dead, Who cannot buried be; In our heart's core your name is writ. What though it bled? The wound was slight To eyes that loved no more, in death's Remorseless night O still belovèd Dead, No grave is found for you; No friends weep with us o'er your bier. No prayers are said; For out of sight We wail our Dead, our secret Dead, Alone at night. Give me a grave so deep That they may rest with me; For they shall lie with my dead heart In healing sleep; Till out of night We shall all pass, O risen Dead, Into God's sight!
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