GRAVE IN THE OCEAN
Where beams the sun the brightest
In the hours of sweet July?
Where falls the snow the lightest
From bleak December's sky?
Where can the weary lay his head,
And lay it soft the while;
In a grave that never shuts its dead
From heaven's benignant smile?
Upon the earth is sunlight;
Spring grass grows green and fair;
But beneath the earth is midnight—
Eternal midnight there.
Then why lament that those we love
Escape earth's dungeon tomb?
As if the flowers that blow above
Could charm its undergloom.
From morning's faintest dawning
Till evening's deepest shade,
Thou wilt not cease thy mourning
To know where she is laid.