I.

Beside the church upon the hill
A cottage stood of aspect grey,
Whose owner's task it was to till
The three fair fields that near him lay.

II.

An orchard small, a garden-plot,
By closest hedge-rows fenced around,
With leafy tufts adorned the spot,
And marked the churchyard's ancient bound.

III.

The church and tall church-spire at hand,
Around the cottage spread repose,
And gravely watch the teeming land,
Where slow a stream through meadows flows.

IV.

Below, upon the prosperous plain,
From that high church the gazer sees
A village small, with fields of grain,
And pastures bright, and shading trees.

V.

To him who owned the church-side farm,
The churchyard yielded gain as well;
The Sexton he, whose strenuous arm
Dug all the graves, and tolled the bell.

VI.

Sad seemed the strong grey-headed man,
Of lagging thought and careful heed;
He shaped his life by rule and plan,
And hoarded all beyond his need.

VII.

One daughter, little Jane, had he,
The silent Sexton's only child;
And when she laughed aloud and free,
The grave old Sexton smiled.

VIII.

For she within his heart had crept,
Himself he could not tell you why,
But often he has almost wept
Because he heard her cry.

IX.

All else to him appeared as dead,
Awaiting but the shroud and pall;
It seemed that to himself he said,
“I soon shall dig the graves of all.”

X.

And beast, and man, and home, and wife,
He saw with cold, accustomed eye;
Jane only looked so full of life
As if that she could never die.