Carl Sandburg (1878–1967). Chicago Poems. 1916.
112. Pals
T
On the silver handles here,
Six silver handles,
One for each of his old pals.
And lift him down the stairs,
Put him on the rollers
Over the floor of the hearse.
To the cold straight house,
The level even house,
To the last house of all.
And the dead know much
And the dead hold under their tongues
A locked-up story.