Lewis Alexander, "My Epitaph" (1929)
I am no better than the birds that sing,
So when I die do not bring me flowers.
Dig no grave, erect no monument
But lay me high upon a lonely hill
As close as possible to God's window sill called heaven.
Let birds of prey come feed upon my body,
And when my bones of flesh are empty quite
Let them remain 'til time has played its part.
The sun and wind and rain and time alas—
Shall dwindle them to nothing but white dust.
Then let this dust commingle with the hill,
And drift downward into some hungry stream;
There to be lost forever to men's sight.
I need no grave. I need no monument.
Let me but be remembered thru my song!
Lewis Alexander
Published in The Carolina Magazine, April 1929
This page has paths:
- Lewis Alexander (1900-1945), Author Page Amardeep Singh