The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.
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I visit graveyards regularly and what a brilliant poem this is. I go there to keep family graves and headstones clean. It is so true that 'Men hate to die'. Life is too much fun. I would love to live forever, one of the human race 'who have stopped dying now forever'. Is it a lie?
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