This is the land of the dead: <br /> Beneath these cubicles <br /> Of earth and stone, <br /> They lie in measured plots <br /> In sweet decay _ <br /> Even the ones I love; <br /> How willingly they bait <br /> The worms that feed <br /> On them, so silently - <br /> With touching unconcern. <br /> <br />This is the land of the dead: <br /> How blissfully they sleep <br /> In sweet commune, <br /> Beneath the crummy earth. <br /> Yea, e'en the ones I love; <br /> <br />While hushed and all alone <br />I of the living cry <br />Beside the silent grave. <br /> <br />F.N. <br />There is no ebbing the tides of <br />lonliness... it comes in huge <br />wanes, relentless
