名人诗歌|ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS (81)

THE fog inrolling, dark and still Lies deep upon the crowded dead As flooding sea upon the sands, And quenches^{1 starlight overhead.}

Long have they slept. Their separate dust Has mingled^{2 with a nameless mould. only the slower-crumbling stones Still tell so much as may be told.}

And now in shoreless fog adrift Like some lone^{3 mariner4 gliding5 by, I lean above the drowning graves And wonder when I too shall lie}

Where evermore the tides of night And earth will hide my lonely rest； And Time will bid my love forget To read the stone upon my breast.