The Grave

Yesterday morning, while wandering about alone in a pine forest, I amused myself bypiling up a small sand-hill under an old pine tree.“Let this be my own grave,” said I.Picking up a piece of white stone, I scribbled my name on it and said, “Let this be myown gravestone.”On either side of the grave, I transplanted a pine sapling to keep it company..This morning, recalling the grave, I went to pay a visit to it.But the grave was nowhere to be found though I searched every nook and corner ofthe dense forest. Where was it gone to?O ye remains of my yesterday’s dead self, it was your own soul that had come tomourn at the grave! Where was my grave gone to?