Mushroom
Bound

April 2000

"In Death Divided"
Thomas Hardy

I shall rot here, with those whom in their day
You never knew,
And alien ones who, ere they chilled to clay,
Met not my view,
Will in your distant grave-place ever neighbour you.



No shade of pinnacle or tree or tower,
While earth endures,
Will fall on my mound and within the hour
Steal on to yours;
One robin never haunt out two green covertures.



Some organ may resound on Sunday noons
By where you lie,
some other thrill the panes with other tunes
Where moulder I;
No selfsame chords compose our common lullaby.



The simply-cut memorial at my head
Perhaps may take
A rustic form, and that above your bed
A stately make;
No linking symbol show thereon for our tale's sake.



And in the monotonous moils of strained, hard-run
Humanity,
The eternal tie which binds us twain in one
No eye will ever see
Streching across the miles that sever you from me.

photographs TM and copyright FOX and it's related entities.

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