To A Friend

ALL too grotesque our thoughts are sometimes. Odd, That there will come a day when you and I Shall not be you and I! that we shall lie-- We two--i' the damp earth-mould--above each clod A drunken headstone in the neglected sod-- Thereon the phrase, "Hic Jacet," carved awry, And then our virtues, Bah! and piety-- Perhaps some cheeky reference to God! And haply after many a century Some spectacled old man shall drive the birds A moment from their song i' the lonely spot And make a copy of the quaint old words-- They will then be quaint and old--and all for what? To fill a gap in a genealogy.