Mimma Bella - Part 8

VIII

Where Mimma lies, some nameless children sleep,

Whose graves, in the obliterating grass,

Sink slowly, as the empty seasons pass,

And look like waves on Time's slow-heaving deep.

No tears, no flowers; save when spring-clouds weep

Upon them; or the breeze with faint " Alas! "

Brings them stray petals from the flowery mass

Upon some grave that Love and Sorrow keep.

Who were they? No one knows. But theirs this wreath

Of fourteen berries, that a stranger brings

With blossoms for his child that lies beneath.

For Life, their names are faint forgotten things;

But now, within the larger book of Death,

Their names are written with the names of kings.