Poetry of Cornwall
Barry Cornwall
born 1787, died 1874
Pseudonym of
Bryan Walter Procter
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A Pauper's Funeral
(from "gyges")
It is a chilling thing to see, as I
Have seen - a man go down into the grave
Without a tear, or even an altered eye:
Oh! sadder far than when fond women rave,
Or children weep, or aged parents sigh,
O'er one whom art and love doth strive to save
In vain: man's heart is soothed by every tone
Of pity, saying "he 's not quite alone."
I saw a pauper once, when I was young,
Borne to his shallow grave: the bearers trod
Smiling to where the death-bell heavily rung;
And soon his bones were laid beneath the sod:
On the rough boards the earth was gaily flung;
Methought the prayer which gave him to his God
Was coldly said; - then all, passing away,
Left the scarce coffined wretch to quick decay.
It was an autumn evening, and the rain
Had ceased awhile, but the loud winds did shriek,
And called the deluging tempest back again;
The flag-staff on the church-yard tower did creak,
And through the black clouds ran a lightning vein.
And than the flapping raven came to seek
Its home: its flight was heavy, and its wing
Seemed weary with a long day's wandering.
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