Sunday, November 2, 2014

All Hallows Poem: Requiescat

On All Hallow's Eve, I gave this poem to every trick-or-treater who came to my door, as well as every one who walked within bounding distance of me.







Requiescat




        Tread lightly, she is near
        Under the snow,
        Speak gently, she can hear
        The daisies grow.
        
        All her bright golden hair
        Tarnished with rust,
        She that was young and fair
        Fallen to dust.
        
        Lily-like, white as snow,
        She hardly knew
        She was a woman, so
        Sweetly she grew.
        
        Coffin-board, heavy stone,
        Lie on her breast,
        I vex my heart alone,
        She is at rest.
        
        Peace, peace, she cannot hear
        Lyre or sonnet,
        All my life’s buried here,
        Heap earth upon it.

        — Oscar Wilde      

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