O do not rear for me a granite shaft,
    With massive base and heaven-piercing

                peak;

On which the sculptor's steel shall deftly

                graft

Kind semi-falsehoods none would care

                to speak.

 
But let a simple slab with name and date
    Point out my resting place to friend and

                foe;

And should I merit rank among the great
    Shame not the modest stone by saying so.
 
But rather let my memory be read;
    Let men look round them or inspect within.
There let them find the praises of their dead,
    There let encomium end and begin.
 
Let me be monumented thus in love,
    And I am sure that peace, serene and deep,
Will rule my spirit in the realms above,
    When God shall give to His beloved sleep.

^__Harry Edward Mills.