“Come and see where Alice lies,”
He said. My eyes
Caught sight of tombs and graves
With rest in peace and Jesus saves

Carved on stone,
And then, there alone,
Beyond the rest, beneath a tree,
Against a wall, and hard to see,

A tombstone stood erected,
Green with time, half neglected.
“They placed her here,”
He said, “out of fear.”

And pointing to the stone, which read:
I lie here not in sleep, but dead,
Waiting for the trumpet call
Which will resurrect us all,

In the meantime, not a sound
Or I will drag you underground.