<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447180" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Burial: In Memory of W.L.E.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What task is this that so unnerves me now?<br>When pity should be dead, and has been dead.<br>Unloose that sheet from round the pierced brow;<br>What matter blood is seen, for blood is red,<br>And red’s the colour of the clammy earth.<br>Be not so solemn,-There’s no need to pray;<br>But, rather smile, - yea, laugh! If pure, thy mirth<br>Is right. He laughed himself but yesterday.<br>That pay-book? Take it from him. Ours a debt<br>No gold can ever pay. That cross of wood<br>About his neck? That must remain, and yet<br>He needs it no, because his heart was good.<br>We’ll house him ‘neath those broken shrubs; dig deep.<br>He’s tired. God knows, and needs a little sleep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Leon+Gellert">Leon Gellert</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447180" data-title="The Burial: In Memory of W.L.E. de Leon Gellert" data-description="What task is this that so unnerves me now? When pity should be dead, and has been dead. Unloose that sheet from round the pierced brow; What matter blood is seen, for blood is red, And red’s the colour of the clammy earth. Be not so solemn,-Ther..."></div> </div> </div>

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