The Epitaph
‘But perhaps he is a friend of yours?’ said my lips. ‘Is it safe?’ my eyes asked, ‘Dare I tell you what I think of him?’
It was safe; only silence fell upon them, those Sad Ones, who at my decease should murmur, ‘He never said of any one an unkind word.’ ‘Alas, Farewell!’ breathed that boyish daydream of my funeral, as it faded.