On that day

I shall put roses on roses, and cover your grave

With multitude of white roses: and since you were brave

One bright red ray.

So people, passing under

The ash-trees of the valley-road, will raise

Their eyes and look at the grave on the hill, in wonder,

Wondering mount, and put the flowers asunder

To see whose praise

Is blazoned here so white and so bloodily red.

Then they will say: “’Tis long since she is dead,

Who has remembered her after many days?”

And standing there

They will consider how you went your ways

Unnoticed among them, a still queen lost in the maze

Of this earthly affair.

A queen, they’ll say,

Has slept unnoticed on a forgotten hill.

Sleeps on unknown, unnoticed there, until

Dawns my insurgent day.