Peace to your ashes, silent dead!
I may not lay my humble head
In such a highly favor’d spot,
When God has call’d, and I am not;
For this I care not, so I be
Buried beneath some branching tree;
But could I choose my resting place
When I have run my earthly race,
’Twould be beside those lonely graves
In the far off West, where the willow waves.