A Gravestone by William Allingham

Far from the churchyard dig his grave, 

On some green mound beside the wave; 

To westward, sea and sky alone, 

And sunsets. Put a mossy stone, 

With mortal name and date, a harp 

And bunch of wild flowers, carven sharp; 

Then leave it free to winds that blow, 

And patient mosses creeping; slow, 

And wandering wings, and footsteps rare 

Of human creature pausing there.