A simple flower with heart of gold,
What should’st thou know of mortal sorrow?
Though thou hadst grown in London mould,
Above the grave of mighty Borrow.

So firm the hold, thy creeping root,
So true thy purchase on the stone,
Thou there defiest the city soot,
The careless step, the heat of noon.

An emblem fair of Lavengro,
Thou art in all thy brave upbringing;
Obscure, he wandered to and fro,
Wrote joy on earth by faith upspringing.

Like thee he loved the windy heath;
He did not fear though storms might rave,
He dreaded not the earth beneath,
He chose his own, a London grave.

George Borrow’s grave, Brompton Cemetery. From Mr. A. Farrants