Won't It Be Curious

WON'T it be curious when I am dead;
Some one, unknown to me, here in my stead?
Curious surely for others to see
Trifles I made or marred outlasting me;
All my possessions - bracelets and rings,
Young and unaltered like immortal things

Young and unaltered, always the same
Changeless the lamp though we blow out the flame.