Page:Ldpd 14012191 000.pdf/77
This page has been validated.
THE BURIAL OF SOPHOCLES
That makest dead men understand,
The very dead in graves rejoice:
Whose utterance, writ in ancient books,
Shall always live, for him that looks.
The very dead in graves rejoice:
Whose utterance, writ in ancient books,
Shall always live, for him that looks.
Many as leaves from autumn trees
The years shall flutter from on high,
And with their multiple decease
The souls of men shall fall and die,
Yet, while the empires turn to dust,
You shall live on, because you must.
The years shall flutter from on high,
And with their multiple decease
The souls of men shall fall and die,
Yet, while the empires turn to dust,
You shall live on, because you must.
O seven times happy he that dies
After the splendid harvest-tide,
When strong barns shield from winter skies
The grain that's rightly stored inside:
There death shall scatter no more tears
Than o'er the falling of the years:
After the splendid harvest-tide,
When strong barns shield from winter skies
The grain that's rightly stored inside:
There death shall scatter no more tears
Than o'er the falling of the years:
Aye, happy seven times is he
Who enters not the silent doors
Before his time, but tenderly
Death beckons unto him, because
There's rest within for weary feet
Now all the journey is complete.
Who enters not the silent doors
Before his time, but tenderly
Death beckons unto him, because
There's rest within for weary feet
Now all the journey is complete.
77