George Butterworth — Requiescat

Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust She that was young and fair Fallen to dust Lily-like, white as snow She hardly knew She was a woman so Sweetly she grew Coffin-board, heavy stone Lie on her breast I vex my heart alone She is at rest Peace, Peace, she cannot hear Lyre or sonnet All my life's buriеd here Heap еarth upon it