There will be rose and rhododendron <br />When you are dead and under ground; <br />Still will be heard from white syringas <br />Heavy with bees, a sunny sound; <br /> <br />Still will the tamaracks be raining <br />After the rain has ceased, and still <br />Will there be robins in the stubble, <br />Brown sheep upon the warm green hill. <br /> <br />Spring will not ail nor autumn falter; <br />Nothing will know that you are gone, <br />Saving alone some sullen plough-land <br />None but yourself sets foot upon; <br /> <br />Saving the may-weed and the pig-weed <br />Nothing will know that you are dead, <br />These, and perhaps a useless wagon <br />Standing beside some tumbled shed. <br /> <br />Oh, there will pass with your great passing <br />Little of beauty not your own, <br />Only the light from common water, <br />Only the grace from simple stone!<br /><br />Edna St Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/elegy-before-death-2/
