I feel content that you would grin with me
Could you but witness what I hear and see.
For you were not accustomed - not your fate -
...
Though our fore-fathers' language us dowers
With lyre-tones, singing-birds' calls,
And the sounds that abide in fell-bowers,
...
That half a dollar bottle held not enough for me;
Its empty form I viewed with consternation;
Another flask I opened and when its cork was free
...
At The Funeral
I feel content that you would grin with me
Could you but witness what I hear and see.
For you were not accustomed - not your fate -
To be thus borne along by friends in state.
But death has changed your status, so that now
Your friends assemble in your honor, bow
Their heads in faith, in grief, humility,
And all unite in speaking well of thee!