A Dirge
Why were you born when the snow was falling?
You should have come to the cuckoo’s calling,
Or when grapes are green in the cluster,
Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster
For their far off flying
From summer dying.
Why did you die when the lambs were cropping?
You should have died at the apples’ dropping,
When the grasshopper comes to trouble,
And the wheat-fields are sodden stubble,
And all winds go sighing
For sweet things dying.
~~
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
from Poems, 1890
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide.]
For sweet things dying.
~~
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
from Poems, 1890
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide.]
"A Dorge" read by Zither P. Oxblood. Courtesy Graveyard Poetry.
A dirge: a lament for the dead, especially one forming part of a funeral rite. Death is a part of life. We die sooner or later, everyone of us... my sister died yesterday... we were close at one time but drifted apart due to a lie she told about me. Happens. 😌
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