To a Friend
All too grotesque our thoughts are sometimes. Odd,
That there will come a day when you and I
Shall not be you and I! that we shall lie —
We two — i' the damp earth-mould — above each clod
A drunken headstone in the neglected sod —
Thereon the phrase, " Hic Jacet, " carved awry,
And then our virtues, Bah! and piety —
Perhaps some cheeky reference to God!
And haply after many a century
Some spectacled old man shall drive the birds
A moment from their song i' the lonely spot
And make a copy of the quaint old words —
They will then be quaint and old — and all for what?
To fill a gap in a genealogy.
That there will come a day when you and I
Shall not be you and I! that we shall lie —
We two — i' the damp earth-mould — above each clod
A drunken headstone in the neglected sod —
Thereon the phrase, " Hic Jacet, " carved awry,
And then our virtues, Bah! and piety —
Perhaps some cheeky reference to God!
And haply after many a century
Some spectacled old man shall drive the birds
A moment from their song i' the lonely spot
And make a copy of the quaint old words —
They will then be quaint and old — and all for what?
To fill a gap in a genealogy.
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