A Saxon Epitaph

The earth builds on the earth

Castles and towers;

The earth saith of the earth:

All shall be ours.

Yea, though they plan and reap

The rye and the corn,

Lo, they were bond to Sleep

Ere they were born.

Yea, though the blind earth sows

For the fruit and the sheaf,

They shall harvest the leaf of the rose

And the dust of the leaf.

Pride of the sword and power

Are theirs at their need

Who shall rule but the root of the flower

The fall of the seed.

They who follow the flesh

In splendour and tears,

They shall rest and clothe them afresh

In the fulness of years.

From the dream of the dust they came

As the dawn set free.

They shall pass as the flower of the flame

Or the foam of the sea.

The earth builds on the earth

Castles and towers.

The earth saith of the earth:

All shall be ours.