Stroll In the Cemetery

The afternoon was chilly cold When I made up my mine to stroll. But where can one's thoughts smoothly flay Than at the cemetery on a cold day. And there I was well destined Jumping o'er the praying grasses woven Across the cemetery's path- soon there I was haven't had a bath. Then I stood at my sweet mum's grave where I sighed and calmly wept. Oh sweet mother who is gone to the conclave Where all the souls are kept. HEREIN LIE THE BONES OF BIH EMILIE WHO ALWAYS BEFORE HER DEATH SANG TO THE GLORY OF GOD REST IN PEACE. And I wept as I read For sweet mum is gone and all is red. And why do i weep when death is inevitable? Well because she left me so soon and I never enjoyed her warmth. She to me was the best of mothers And top all the best of companions. But she was gone, forever, Making me develop today this fever.