When I was in 8th grade English in Monroe High School, taught by Miss Dildine (later, Mrs. Johnson), I remember reading a poem some of which has stuck with me all these years. All I can remember of it is:
"When I am dead and careless hands have thrust
My body downward into ageless dust
I think the grave cannot suffice to hold
My spirit prisoned in the sunless mold."
I've done a Google search on the first few words, but haven't run across the complete poem. It sounds morbid, but is actually about love, much like Christina Rossetti's "Song" or Shakespeare's sonnet LXXI.
Someday, I hope to be able to read the complete poem.