Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895
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Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895.  1895.
 
At Her Grave
 
Arthur William Edgar O’Shaughnessy (1844–81)
 
 
I HAVE stay’d too long from your grave, it seems;
  Now I come back again.
Love, have you stirr’d down there in your dreams
  Through the sunny days or the rain?
Ah, no! the same peace: you are happy so;        5
And your flowers, how do they grow?
 
Your rose has a bud: is it meant for me?
  Ah, little red gift put up
So silently, like a child’s present, you see
  Lying beside your cup!        10
And geranium leaves,—I will take, if I may,
Two or three to carry away.
 
I went not far. In yon world of ours
  Grow ugly weeds. With my heart,
Thinking of you and your garden of flowers,        15
  I went to do my part,
Plucking up, where they poison the human wheat,
The weeds of cant and deceit.
 
’T is a hideous thing I have seen, and the toil
  Begets few thanks, much hate;        20
And the new crop only will find the soil
  Less foul,—for the old ’t is too late.
I come back to the only spot I know
Where a weed will never grow.
 

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