Here Death hid his skull; and hid it in the sea, the common sepulcher of Odo.

Not dust to dust, but dust to brine; not hearses but canoes.

For all who died upon that isle were carried out beyond the outer reef, and there were buried with their sires' sires.

Hence came the thought, that of gusty nights, when round the isles, and high toward heaven, flew the white reef's rack and foam, that then and there, kept chattering watch and ward, the myriads that were ocean- tombed.
But why these watery obsequies?
Odo was but a little isle, and must the living make way for the dead, and Life's small colony be dislodged by Death's grim hosts; as the gaunt tribes of Tamerlane o'erspread the tented pastures of the Khan?
And now, what follows, said these Islanders: "Why sow corruption in the soil which yields us life?
We would not pluck our grapes from over graves.

This earth's an urn for flowers, not for ashes." They said that Oro, the supreme, had made a cemetery of the sea.
And what more glorious grave?
Was Mausolus more sublimely urned?
Or do the minster-lamps that burn before the tomb of Charlemagne, show more of pomp, than all the stars, that blaze above the shipwrecked mariner?
But no more of the dead; men shrug their shoulders, and love not their company; though full soon we shall all have them for fellows..