They told me once a man had died,
and strange it seemed to me:
to speak of man's to speak of death
though from death all men flee.
They told me then how his wife wept, how tears came from her eyes— but all of life's a widow's veil, and mourning none despise.
They asked me where to bury him,
to fix my father's rest.
"Within the earth," all I could say
where lay the worst and best.
Tale Told 