A Wish

Be where I may when Death brings in his bill,
Demanding payment for life's ling'ring debt,
Or in my native village nestling still,
Or tracing sues I've never known as yet,
O let one wish, go where I will, be mine,—
To turn - back and wander home to die,
'Mong nearest friends my latest breath resign,
And in the church-yard with my kindred lie,
'Neath the thick-shaded sycamore's decay,
Its broad leaves trembling to the breeze of day:
To see its shadow o'er my ashes wave,
How soothing will it be, while, hovering near,
My unseen spirit haunts its daisied grave,
Pausing on scenes in life once lov'd so dear.