Poem Hunter
(13 December 1797 – 17 February 1856 / Dusseldorf)


Where shall I, of wandering weary,
Find my resting-place at last?
Under drooping southern palm-trees?
Under limes the Rhine sweeps past?

Will it be in deserts lonely,
Dug by unfamiliar hands?
Shall I slumber where the ocean
Crawls along the yellow sands?

It matters not! Around me ever
There as here God's heaven lies,
And by night, as death-lamps o'er me,
Lo, His stars sweep through the skies!

User Rating: 3,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

The theme is when your dead your dead, one place is as good as another, but is it? Most people seem to choose beautiful resting places, bogs and swamps are not popular choices, strangely many choose a final resting place with a view.