I knew this one. In different times

She could have led so many lives:

Doctor, artist, mother, teacher,

One of a band of merry wives.

 

A guess, of course. She was so young,

And now is hauled out of this pit.

Laid out for ever in a shroud;

Deprived of all her charm and wit.

 

This place concealed a tragic tale;

A savage tumult oozing waste.

Like her, each one had much to give,

But virtue has long been displaced.

 

With forks and spades we have exposed

An evil still hard to believe.

Those disinterred now fill out hearts;

In spite of anger, we shall grieve.