Your dust will be upon the wind <br />Within some certain years, <br />Though you be sealed in lead to-day <br />Amid the country's tears. <br /> <br />When this idyllic churchyard <br />Becomes the heart of town, <br />The place to build garage or inn, <br />They'll throw your tombstone down. <br /> <br />Your name so dim, so long outworn, <br />Your bones so near to earth, <br />Your sturdy kindred dead and gone, <br />How should men know your worth? <br /> <br />So read upon the runic moon <br />Man's epitaph, deep-writ. <br />It says the world is one great grave. <br />For names it cares no whit. <br /> <br />It tells the folk to live in peace, <br />And still, in peace, to die. <br />At least, so speaks the moon to me, <br />The tombstone of the sky.<br /><br />Vachel Lindsay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-the-sexton-said/
