Nothing much today

Come back on the 30th.

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,

love leaves a memory no one can steal.

~an Irish Epitath~

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,

By all their country's wishes blest!

When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,

Returns to deck their hallow'd mould,

She there shall dress a sweeter sod

Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.

By fairy hands their knell is rung,

There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray,

To bless the turf that wraps their clay;

And Freedom shall awhile repair,

To dwell, a weeping hermit, there.

~William Collins~

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