Underneath the Bough: A Book of Verses

by George Allan England

Carmen Mortis.

THIS is the Song of Death,

This is the burial-note

After the end of breath

Gasped by corrupted throat;

After the passing-breath

Heard from the grave remote;

This is the Song of Death,

This is the burial-note...

O, sweet it is to be long since dead

And buried in earth so cold;

To feel on the roof of thy narrow bed

The weight of the sodden mould,

To lie in the dark of an endless night

And the lees of an oozing slime—

I know these joys, for I have been dead

And buried, a long, long time...

My lips they are drawn in a ghastly smile

But through them there goes no breath;

And my eyes they are dead and sunk in my head,

Yet forever they stare, in death,

For I look at the rotting burial-boards

Close sagging above my head;

Yea, I have been buried a long, long time,

For I have been long since dead...

My corpse is a-cold, for the chilling mould

Is about me on every side.

I lie like a stone, with my Terror, alone,

For here in the grave I died...

Yea, I screamed full loud in my ghastly shroud

When I woke in the noisome gloom,

And the sweat of my agony froze like ice

As I fought with my fearful doom...

But now—I am dead, though my lips still laugh

In the motionless black of night,

Though my bleared eyes stare in the grave, for they see

Not even the glow-worm’s light;

Yet still I can see that to buried be

Is a sweet and a happy thing,

For I sing my Song in the House of Death,

And this is the Song I sing:

Welcome - slimy - worm - with - sightless - head -

Blindly - burrowing - in - the - fearful - night -

Happy - shouldst - thou - be - for - lack - of - sight -

Since - thou - canst - not - see - that - I - am - dead -

When - thou - comest - from - thy - secret - place -

Eating - through - the - earth - with - silent - care -

Boldly - come - I - bid - and - boldly - dare -

Down - to - drop - upon - my - leaden - face -

Drag - thy - sluggish - slime - across - my - eyes -

They - will - never - close - to - touch - of - thine -

Coil - within - these - hideous - lips - of - mine -

Where - a - Maid - breathed - long - ago - her - sighs -

Welcome - slimy - worm - with - creeping - head -

Meet - it - is - that - thou - my - friend - shouldst - be -

Happy - art - thou - since - thou - canst - not - see -

I - am - buried - deep - and - I - am - dead

Then these be the words of the Song of Death

That I sing in my prison-cell.

It charms the worms with the hooded heads,

And the worms I love full well.

It charms the worms, though my singing is

But a mouthing, mumbling groan,

For I have no breath in this House of Death

And I mutter with lips alone...

So, my tale it is told of the dread and cold

In the depths of this livid gloom;

And I motionless lie, as I strive to die,

As I rot in my narrow room,

For I am not dead whilst my fearful head

The foul, fat worms forsake;

But, when that is gone, then my dream it is done,

And I sleep at last, never to wake...

---

This is the Song of Death,

This is the burial-note

After the end of breath

Gasped by corrupted throat;

After the passing breath

Heard from the grave remote;

This is the burial-note,

This is the Song of Death...

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