The poppy there, companion to repose,
Display'd her blossoms that began to fall,
And here the purple amaranthus rose
With mint strong-scented, for the funeral.
17
And here and there with laurel shrubs between65
A tombstone lay, inscrib'd with strains of woe,
And stanzas sad, throughout the dismal green,
Lamented for the dead that slept below.
18
Peace to this awful dome!—when strait I heard
The voice of men in a secluded room,70
Much did they talk of death, and much of life,
Of coffins, shrouds, and horrors of a tomb.
19
Pathetic were their words, and well they aim'd
To explain the mystic paths of providence,
Learn'd were they all, but there remain'd not I75
To hear the upshot of their conference.
20
Meantime from an adjoining chamber came
Confused murmurings, half distinguish'd sounds,
And as I nearer drew, disputes arose
Of surgery, and remedies for wounds.80
21