—Clare Harner, in "The Gypsy." (1934)

 Do not stand

   By my grave, and weep. I am not there,    I do not sleep— I am the thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints in snow, I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle, autumn rain, As you awake with morning's hush, I am the swift, up-flinging rush Of quiet birds in circling flight, I am the day transcending night. Do not stand    By my grave, and cry— I am not there,    I did not die.