Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
V. Death and BereavementThe Quaker Graveyard
Silas Weir Mitchell (18291914)F
A quiet city square surround;
A level space of nameless graves,—
The Quakers’ burial-ground.
They trod the common ways of life,
With passions held in sternest leash,
And hearts that knew not strife.
With thoughts as sober as their speech,
To voiceless prayer, to songless praise,
To hear the elders preach.
With scarce a change to this repose;
Of all life’s loveliness they took
The thorn without the rose.
Glad rings the southward robin’s glee,
And sparrows fill the autumn air
With merry mutiny;
The red and gold of autumn lie,
And wilful Nature decks the sod
In gentlest mockery.