Robert Service

And when I come to the dim trail-end,
   I who have been Life’s rover,
This is all I would ask, my friend,
   Over and over and over:

A little space on a stony hill
   With never another near me,
Sky o’ the North that’s vast and still,
   With a single star to cheer me;

Star that gleams on a moss-gray stone
   Graven by those who love me –
There would I lie alone, alone,
   With a single pine above me;

Pine that the north wind whinnies through –
   Oh, I have been Life’s rover!
But there I’d lie and listen to 
   Eternity passing over.