Sunday, December 14, 2008

Graveyard in the Snow

On a Grave at Grindelwald

Here let us leave him; for his shroud the snow,
For funeral lamps he has the planets seven,
For a great sign the icy stair shall go
Between the heights to heaven.
One moment stood he as the angels stand,
High in the stainless eminence of air;
The next, he was not, to his fatherland
Translated unaware.

Frederic William Henry Myers, 1843–1901


by A. E. Housman

Bring, in this timeless grave to throw
No cypress, sombre on the snow;
Snap not from the bitter yew
His leaves that live December through;
Break no rosemary, bright with rime
And sparkling to the cruel crime;
Nor plod the winter land to look
For willows in the icy brook
To cast them leafless round him: bring
To spray that ever buds in spring.
But if the Christmas field has kept
Awns the last gleaner overstept,
Or shrivelled flax, whose flower is blue
A single season, never two;
Or if one haulm whose year is o'er
Shivers on the upland frore,
--Oh, bring from hill and stream and plain
Whatever will not flower again,
To give him comfort: he and those
Shall bide eternal bedfellows
Where low upon the couch he lies
Whence he never shall arise.


Carol said...

Thanks for reminding me of those poems. I have linked your post to my genealogy blog, Light's Ridge and will use the poems with pictures of family headstones - someday in the near future, I hope.

Carol said...


1 large farm fresh egg
1/4c.+ 3 T. applesauce
1/3 c molasses
1/2 c. all-purpose white flour
1 c. stone-ground wheat flour
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. sea salt
1 t. cinnamon
1/2 t. each cloves, ginger, ground nutmeg
1/2 c boiling water

Fill greased muffin cups 2/3 full.
Bake at 350 degrees 25 minutes.

Granny Sue said...

Thank you, Carol! I will try these soon. They sound delicious.

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