epic poetry

why are the things that have no death
we were not many
when i was a boy at college
i gazed upon the glorious sky
i heard the wind all day
as i lie roofed in, screened in
did you ever hear of
lived by the river-side
i make my shroud, but no one knows
she limps with halting painful pace
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
she might have known it in the earlier spring