She is a lady fair and wise, <br />Her heart her counsel keeps, <br />And well she knows of time that flies <br />And tide that onward sweeps; <br />But still she sits with restless eyes <br />Where Memory sleeps--- <br />Where Memory sleeps. <br /> <br />Ye that have heard the whispering dead <br />In every wind that creeps, <br />Or felt the stir that strains the lead <br />Beneath the mounded heaps, <br />Tread softly, ah! more softly tread <br />Where Memory sleeps--- <br />Where Memory sleeps.<br /><br />Sir Henry Newbolt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/among-the-tombs/
