Here, in this English country churchyard
Let us rest for a while.
Upon the earth,
From which we ...
Unto which we ...
Silent now,
Save the droning of the bumble bee,
Drunk upon the abundance of blossom,
Blooming over the socially-distanced plots -
As it the fallen might catch a fever.

Let us rest and remember,
Lest we forget, long ago -
For we have been here before.
This too will cease -
The year of the plague falling like the leaves,
Upon graves old and new,
Upon the earth freshly lain.

Then let the rain
Wash away our tears.
Then let the old bells peal once more
Chiming over the misty vale.
Then let us hold up our heads, as we read:

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil; 
For You are with me; 
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

Here, in this English churchyard
Let us rest for a while.