Weird Tales/Volume 7/Issue 6/A Grave

by Lilla Poole Price

A Grave

By Lilla Poole Price

O, bury me under the soft, blue waves,
’Mid the swirl of the billows free;
Let me find sweet rest
’Neath their foam-tipp’d crest
In the depths of the murmuring sea.

No bell shall be toll’d with its mournful sound,
No funeral pall shall be spread,
But a solemn hush
And a soft, sad rush
As the waters close over my head.

A tangle of seaweed shall be my shroud,
And a mound of coral my bier;
The voice of the sea
Shall my requiem be,
And my sleep will be tranquil here.

No roses nor lilies may deck my grave,
Nor marble shall mark my rest,
But the wonderful flow’rs
Of the ocean bow’rs
Shall lovingly twine o’er my breast.

Then bury me under the sad sea waves,
Where the winds moan soft and low;
Let the tears that are shed
For the deep-cover’d dead
With the shimmering wavelets flow.