The turf on her breast.
“So have ye buried her—
Up!—and depart,
To life and to duty,
With undismayed heart!
Fear not; for the love
Of the stranger will keep
The casket that lies
In the Rock of the deep.
“Peace, peace to thy bosom,
The turf on her breast.
“So have ye buried her—
Up!—and depart,
To life and to duty,
With undismayed heart!
Fear not; for the love
Of the stranger will keep
The casket that lies
In the Rock of the deep.
“Peace, peace to thy bosom,