That one true heart was left behind!
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
'That I should not be true.'"
And much I hope my movements here
Have not disturbed your rest?"
'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,
"But someone digs upon my grave?
No tendance of her mound can loose
What good will planting flowers produce?
She thought you no more worth her hate,
It was your resting place."
My nearest dearest kin?"
My enemy? — prodding sly?"
A dog's fidelity!"
And cares not where you lie.
To bury a bone, in case
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
I should be hungry near this spot
— "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
Your little dog , who still lives near,
What feeling do we ever find
"Ah, are you digging on my grave,
— "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!
"Mistress, I dug upon your grave
"Ah yes! You dig upon my grave…
Her spirit from Death's gin.'"
— "No: yesterday he went to wed
When passing on my daily trot.
My loved one? — planting rue?"
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
Why flashed it not to me
To equal among human kind
— "O it is I, my mistress dear,
"Then, who is digging on my grave?
"Then who is digging on my grave,
Say — since I have not guessed!"