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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox


Somewhere there is a spot of ground,
   Covered with grass, or snow, may be,
That one day will be spaded 'round
   And dug up to make room for me.

And I unconsciously have trod,
   Perhaps, and so again may tread
Upon the very voiceless sod,
   That will be roof above my head.

Somewhere upon the earth to-day
   Are dwelling men, who yet shall spade
And cut and dig the earth away,
   Until my narrow house is made.

Perchance they have clasped hands with me;
   Those hands, that, after I am dead,
Shall measure me so reverently,
   To find how long to make my bed.

How strangely, solemn thoughts like these
   Will come, when life seems blithe and gay;
Like voices of the passing breeze,
   Saying "All things must pass away--" 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
  1. The Birth of the Opal
  2. But a Dream
  3. The Awakening (I love the tropics, where sun and rain)
  4. The Breaking of Chains
  5. The Chain

Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • John Cheney Somewhere ("THE WEASEL thieves in silver suit")

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