Page:Poems of nature, Thoreau, 1895.djvu/86

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THE FUNERAL BELL

One more is gone
Out of the busy throng
That tread these paths;
The church-bell tolls,
Its sad knell rolls
To many hearths.


Flower-bells toll not,
Their echoes roll not
Upon my ear;
There still perchance
That gentle spirit haunts
A fragrant bier.