The Mound By The Lake - Poem by Herman Melville
The grass shall never forget this grave.
When homeward footing it in the sun
After the weary ride by rail,
The stripling soldiers passed her door,
Wounded perchance, or wan and pale,
She left her household work undone -
Duly the wayside table spread,
With evergreens shaded, to regale
Each travel-spent and grateful one.
So warm her heart, childless, unwed,
Who like a mother comforted.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye