Strew on her roses, roses, <br /> And never a spray of yew! <br />In quiet she reposes; <br /> Ah, would that I did too! <br /> <br />Her mirth the world required; <br /> She bathed it in smiles of glee. <br />But her heart was tired, tired, <br /> And now they let her be. <br /> <br />Her life was turning, turning, <br /> In mazes of heat and sound. <br />But for peace her soul was yearning, <br /> And now peace laps her round. <br /> <br />Her cabin'd, ample spirit, <br /> It flutter'd and fail'd for breath. <br />To-night it doth inherit <br /> The vasty hall of death.<br /><br />Matthew Arnold<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/requiescat-2/
