Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE HOMES OF THE DEAD, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: We must not make a home for the dead
Last Line: Are watched by the self-same god.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


WE must not make a home for the dead,
Nor raise an osiered mound,
Till the eloquent prayer and priestly tread
Have sanctified the ground.

But there are those who fall and die
Upon the desert land,
With no pall above the torrid sky,
No bier but the scorching sand.

No turf is laid, no sexton's spade
Chimes in with the mourner's groans;
But the prowling jackal finds a feast,
And the red sun crumbles the bones.

There are those who go down in the dark wild sea,
When storms have wrecked proud ships,
With none to heed what the words may be
That break from their gurgling lips.

No anthems peal flows sweet and loud,
No tablets mark their graves;
But they soundly sleep in a coral shroud,
To the dirge of the rolling waves.

There are those who sink on the mountain path,
With cold and curdling blood;
With the frozen sleet for a funeral sheet,
And no mates but the vulture brood:

No tolling bell proclaims their knell,
No memory stone is found;
But the snow-drift rests on their skeleton breasts,
And the bleaching winds sweep round.

There are those who fall on the purple field,
In glory's mad career;
Their dying couch -- a battered shield,
Their cross of faith -- a spear:

No priest has been there with robes and prayer
To consecrate the dust;
Where the soldier sleeps his steed sleeps too,
And his gore-stained weapons rust.

No cypress waves, no daisy grows,
Above such pillows of rest;
Yet say, are the riteless graves of those
Unholy or unblest!

'Tis well to find our last repose
'Neath the churchyard's sacred sod;
But those who sleep in the desert or deep
Are watched by the self-same GOD.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net