But to whom is the dust each commemorates known?
Oh! bury me not by the multitude's side,
I would shun them in death, as in life I avoid;
Where the loathsome newt creeps, 'neath the rank hemlock's shade,
Is not where I would that my bones should be laid.
But bear me away to the limitless sea,
And heave me afar 'mong its billows so free:
Where my flesh may be wasted, but never shall rot—
Where man is not dust, and corruption is not.
Oh delight! to be tost from wild wave to wild wave—