The Moor Grave
I lie out here under a heather sod,
A moor-stone at my head, the moor winds play above.
I lie out here…. In graveyards of their God
They would not bury desperate me who died for love!
I lie out here under the sun and moon;
Across me bearded ponies stride , the curlews cry.
I have no little tombstone screed, no: “Soon
To glory shall she rise” – but deathless peace have I!
(John Galsworthy, circa 1910)