They lay the body down, and leave the dead to rest.
Above a garden grows; below nothing but bones.
The old man’s face soon wears away into a skull
within th’ eternal night of this, his earthly grave.
Sleep long, sleep deep, and dreamless dream of days to come
O man below the tombstone I have found today.
Sleep long and deep, and dream of morrow’s dawning light.
I’ll dream as well, and wander through this misty morn,
a shadow passing by your well-kept resting place.
The sun shall force me soon to hide until the night
returns—I wait.
Unknown Lament
Tale Told 