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Home  »  A Library of American Literature  »  Annie in the Graveyard

Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

Annie in the Graveyard

By Caroline Howard Gilman (1794–1888)

SHE bounded o’er the graves,

With a buoyant step of mirth;

She bounded o’er the graves,

Where the weeping willow waves,

Like a creature not of earth.

Her hair was blown aside,

And her eyes were glittering bright;

Her hair was blown aside,

And her little hands spread wide,

With an innocent delight.

She spelt the lettered word

That registers the dead;

She spelt the lettered word,

And her busy thoughts were stirred

With pleasure as she read.

She stopped and culled a leaf

Left fluttering on a rose;

She stopped and culled a leaf,

Sweet monument of grief,

That in our church-yard grows.

She culled it with a smile—

’Twas near her sister’s mound:

She culled it with a smile,

And played with it awhile,

Then scattered it around.

I did not chill her heart,

Nor turn its gush to tears;

I did not chill her heart—

Oh, bitter drops will start

Full soon in coming years.