When these graven lines you see,
Traveller, do not pity me;
Though I be among the dead,
Let no mournful word be said.
Children that I leave behind,
And their children, all were kind;
Near to them and to my wife,
I was happy all my life.
My three sons I married right,
And their sons I rocked at night;
Death nor sorrow never brought
Cause for one unhappy thought.
Now, and with no need of tears,
Here they leave me, full of years,--
Leave me to my quiet rest
In the region of the blest.
i think this isn't a happy poem....it's a poem of a sad person wishing to be happy.. because for me, he's thinking about death, , , and people who thinking bout death are people in sorrow.....my proof is myself.... this poem is just an illusion of the author...he's just concealing the way he is... this is just a mere irony to what he really is..... because probably he cannot get what he want...the satisfaction of life that he'd been looking for.... but well that's just my idea.....
I have a vision to write like this, only if god would bless me enough to.o
Very adept perspective on life - being happy enough to die.......
Destined to live away from own children old parents feel a bit of loneliness
you sound satisfied in you married life