letra de irony - louis untermeyer
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why are the things that have no death
the ones with neither sight nor breath!
eternity is thrust upon
a bit of earth, a senseless stone
a grain of dust, a casual clod
receives the greatest gift of god
a pebble in the roadway lies—
it never dies
the grass our fathers cut away
is growing on their graves today;
the tiniest brooks that scarcely flow
eternally will come and go
there is no kind of death to k!ll
the sands that lie so meek and still. . .
but man is great and strong and wise—
and so he dies
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