"No--not where I shall make my own; But dig his grave just by The woman's with the initialed stone - As near as he can lie - After whose d**h he seemed to ail, Though none considered why. "And when I also claim a nook, And your feet tread me in, Bestow me, under my old name, Among my kith and kin, That strangers gazing may not dream I did a husband win." "Widow, your wish shall be obeyed; Though, thought I, certainly You'd lay him where your folk are laid, And your grave, too, will be, As custom hath it; you to right, And on the left hand he." "Aye, s**ton; such the Hintock rule, And none has said it nay; But now it haps a native here Eschews that ancient way . . . And it may be, some Christmas night, When angels walk, they'll say: "'O strange interment! Civilized lands Afford few types thereof; Here is a man who takes his rest Beside his very Love, Beside the one who was his wife In our sight up above!'"