614

In falling Timbers buried —

There breathed a Man —

Outside — the Spades — were plying —

The Lungs — within —

Could He — know — they sought Him —

Could They — know – He breathed —

Horrid Sand Partition —

Neither — could be heard —

Never slacked the Diggers —

But when Spades had done —

Oh, Reward of Anguish,

It was dying – Then —

Many Things — are fruitless —

‘Tis a Baffling Earth —

But there is no Gratitude

Like the Grace — of Death —

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