Bereaved of all, I went abroad

Bereaved of all, I went abroad—

No less bereaved was I

Upon a New Peninsula—

The Grave preceded me—

Obtained my Lodgings, ere myself—

And when I sought my Bed—

The Grave it was reposed upon

The Pillow for my Head—

I waked to find it first awake—

I rose—It followed me—

I tried to drop it in the Crowd—

To lose it in the Sea—

In Cups of artificial Drowse

To steep its shape away—

The Grave—was finished—but the Spade

Remained in Memory—