Robert Louis Stevenson: "Here he lies where he longed to be"
Yeats: Everything alters

F.W.H. Myers: The mountain-climber's grave


On a Grave at Grindelwald

Here let us leave him; for his shroud the snow,
for funeral-lamps he has the planets seven,
for a great sign the icy stair shall go
between the heights to heaven.

One moment stood he as the angels stand,
high in the stainless eminence of air;
the next, he was not, to his fatherland
translated unaware.

     --Frederick William Henry Myers (1843-1901)


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