Quiet Dead!

Quiet, quiet dead,     Have ye aught to say     From your hidden bed     In the earthy clay?     Fathers, children, mothers,     Ye are very quiet;     Can ye shout, my brothers?     I would know you by it!     Have ye any words     That are like to ours?     Have ye any birds?     Have ye any flowers?     Could ye rise a minute     When the sun is warm?     I would know you in it,     I would take no harm.     I am half afraid     In the ghostly night;     If ye all obeyed     I should fear you quite.     But when day is breaking     In the purple east     I would meet you waking--     One of you at least--     When the sun is tipping     Every stony block,     And the sun is slipping     Down the weathercock.     Quiet, quiet dead,     I will not perplex you;     What my tongue hath said     Haply it may vex you!     Yet I hear you speaking     With a quiet speech,     As if ye were seeking     Better things to teach:     "Wait a little longer,     Suffer and endure     Till your heart is stronger     And your eyes are pure--     A little longer, brother,     With your fellow-men:     We will meet each other     Otherwhere again."