Helen Hunt Jackson

Here you will find the Poem Unto one who lies at rest of poet Helen Hunt Jackson

Unto one who lies at rest

Unto one who lies at rest 
'Neath the sunset, in the West, 
Clover-blossoms on her breast. 

Lover of each gracious thing 
Which makes glad the summer-tide, 
From the daisies clustering 
And the violets purple-eyed, 
To those shy and hidden blooms 
Which in forest coverts stay, 
Sending wandering perfumes 
Out as guide to show the way, 
All she knew, to all was kind; 
None so humble or so small 
That she did not seek and find 
Silent friendship from them all. 
Moss-cups, tiarella leaves, 
Dappld like the adder's skin, 
Fungus huts with ivory eaves 
Which the fairies harbor in, 
Regiments of fronded ferns, 
Golden-rod and asters frail, 
Every flaming leaf that burns 
Red against the autumn pale, 
Every pink-cupped wayside rose,-- 
All to her were dear and known; 
But above them all she chose 
Clover-blossoms for her own. 

So they laid her to her rest 
In the sun-warmed, bounteous West, 
Clover-blossoms on her breast.