If no one else remembers me,
Not friends nor even family,
When I am gone and laid to rest,
And having done my worst and best,
May some small child, a curious boy,
On setting aside his favorite toy,
Seek out a word that might inspire,
And find a poem of mine to admire.
If but for a moment he delights
In thoughts of mine to fuel his flights,
To turn the mind benevolent,
Though dead and gone, I’ll be content.