Weathered granite tells the day, when progress did but turn to mirth.

But, Alas! Does that mere marker pay, due tribute to a mortal's worth?

I do not hasten, nor implore, nor track; Nor speed, my certain demise.

But lo! I will not flail against in vain; Rather greet noble, as no reprise.

Recall of me, please, on finite close; Pacified; appeased; did he meet thy will.

Ere’ the task completed and thy journey done; Welcome Death will lay me still.