More beneath mould'ring sullen earth do sleep
Than move and breathe with calm and cheerful ease;
Mocking flowers drooping who muse and weep—
Sturdy oaks free of sadness and disease.

Unconscious of final approaching doom,
Last appointment at late or early hour;
Unmindful of eager awaiting tomb,
Blissful, never do they despair nor tire.

'Till gaiety darkens to doleful sigh.
At the end of ev'ry road laughs a grave,
Whilst cruel time triumphantly doth fly
Mocking sad flower and stalwart oak brave.


**~Hilda~