ON that
day
I shall put
roses on roses, and cover your grave
With multitude of white roses: and since you
were
brave
One bright
red ray.
So people, passing
under
The ash-trees
of the valley-road, will raise
Their eyes and look at the grave on the hill,
in
wonder,
Wondering
mount, and put the flowers asunder
To see whose
praise
Is blazoned
here so white and so bloodily red.
Then they will say: “‘Tis long since she is
dead,
Who has remembered her after many
days?”
And standing
there
They will
consider how you went your ways
Unnoticed among them, a still queen lost in
the
maze
Of this
earthly affair.
A queen, they’ll
say,
Has slept
unnoticed on a forgotten hill.
Sleeps on unknown, unnoticed there,
until
Dawns my insurgent day.