Here you will find thePoemBunhills Fieldsof poet Anne Ridler
Under cool trees the City tombs extend, and nearer lie stones above Blake's and Bunyan's bones to Vivian's working days than I. Since he is gentle, wild and good as you were, peaceable Shades, there may he go within your care as in my heart his love resides. Such a care as held unharmed the tree within the fire; spread wings like those that led Tobias in the dangerous shire. And if I fear his death too much, let me not learn more faith by sad trial of what I dread, nor grieve him by my own death. For our faith is one which may convert but not console: we shall not, except by our own will, part for ever in the gape of hell.
