A time will come when you will lay me down into the casket..
Dip me six feet underground..
Cover me in a heap of soil..
As you place a wooden cross and a bouquet of flowers on top of it...
...
Split the Lark—and you'll find the Music—
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled—
Scantilly dealt to the Summer Morning
Saved for your Ear when Lutes be old.