Requiescat Ned Rorem

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