But I Cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him I’ the cold ground.

There is something about the ground. Even when you know the body is all that is left. Even if you saw the body emptied of life, of spirit, of soul, of breath. Even if all that is left are some ashes in a box. It is still a powerful ritual to see that box placed in the earth and covered over. It may trigger tears when no other stage could evoke them. The ritual, so ancient, so primal, so final. We cannot choose but weep.

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