In a Disused Graveyard
Robert Frost (March 26, 1874--January 29, 1963)

The living come with grassy tread
To read the graves stones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.

The verses in it say and say:
"The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
To morrow dead will come to stay."

So sure of death the marbles rhyme,
Yet can't help marking all the time
How no one dead will seem to come.
What is it men are shrinking from?

It would be easy to be clever 
And tell the stones: men hate to die 
And have stopped dying now forever.
I think they would believe the lie.