A Yearn by Your Grave

After the last dust on you sprinkle,
The collier to his home set,
And wishers well their feet must turn.
When lonely to the bereft drone,
Of your silent grave left I.

Then may I ask, in world return,
Will you take me by your side?
And whisper revelations here not:
Of golden gates and silver streets
Not here but beyond. Or where?