The To-Be-Forgotten Thomas Hardy

I

        I heard a small sad sound,
And stood awhile amid the tombs around:
"Wherefore, old friends," said I, "are ye distrest,
        Now, screened from life's unrest?"

II

        —"O not at being here;
But that our future second death is drear;
When, with the living, memory of us numbs,
        And blank oblivion comes!

III

        "Those who our grandsires be
Lie here embraced by deeper death than we;
Nor shape nor thought of theirs canst thou descry
        With keenest backward eye.

IV

        "They bide as quite forgot;
They are as men who have existed not;
Theirs is a loss past loss of fitful breath;
        It is the second death.