Sooner He Is Laid Southward Poem by Oliver .........

Since our gentleman is laid southward on this pyre-
Doss as geraniums in the courtyard are
Blown and beaten awry by harsh pluvial storm,
And mourners sit crooked towards
Grief in this damp home, tell me friends,

Of any mirth or joy which has no doom with the
Death which is the end of all dreams! Since tears
Are draining the cheeks, and grief is maligning
The blood deep down in our heart and
Fire- flames are splitting their tongues in

Utterance of human vanities, tell me friends, what
Earthly sins or virtues be redeemed of
A handful of ash which neither vaunts the
Name nor declaims any fame to,
The mourners! Since rain is journeying

Over hill-slopes and, its high music is sweet to
The treed eagles and spell of rain is all
Breaking down in mourning hours and all eyes
Are blurring in the blaze of shooting
Flames, tell me friends, of the savour and

Logic of our tears, the essence of this man's
Acknowledgement of our homages and,
The gross weight of each mourner's compassions,
When this another death humbles
Us all in detention of our senses!