Poem by Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Dirge

We do lie beneath the grass
In the moonlight, in the shade
Of the yew-tree. They that pass
Hear us not. We are afraid
They would envy our delight,
In our graves by glow-worm night.
Come follow us, and smile as we;
We sail to the rock in the ancient waves,
Where the snow falls by thousands into the sea,
And the drown'd and the shipwreck'd have happy graves.

1. Song on the Water
2. Song from the Waters
3. Song from Torrismond
4. The Rosy Hour
5. Lines Written in a Blank Leaf of the ‘Prometheus Unbound’

Rupert Atkinson Dirge ("SLOW, slow across the black bleak range")

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