AN EPITAPH

I dreamed that one had died in a strange place

Near no accustomed hand, And they had nailed the boards abovë her face

The peàsants of that land, '

And wonderïng, planted by her solitude

A cypress and a yew.

I came and wroteupon a cross of wood

~~ Man had no more to do

She was more beautiful than thy first love

This lady by the trees; " '

And gazed upon the mournful stars above

And. heard the mournful breeze. ; - ■ :

W.-B. Yeats.

îiARS 189*.