Who knows where the graveyard is Where the fox and the eagle lie?Who has seen the obsequies Of the red deer when they die?
With death they steal away Out of the sight of the sun;Out of the sight of the living, they Pay the debt and are done.
No marble marks the place; The common forest brownCovers them over with Quaker grace Just where they laid them down.
But a few years, if you see In summer a deeper greenHere and there, it is like to be The spot where their bones have been.
Thus, not more, to the poor dead year: No grave, nor ghostly stone,But a greener life and a warmer cheer Be the only sign that he's gone.
