I love to visit unknown graves
When snow the woodland buries,
And hear the wild wind when it raves
Over grim cemeteries.
I glory in the sight of tombs,
O'er slabs I love to ponder;
And I am glad when in the glooms
Of humid crypts I wander.
I love to hear the dolorous voice
Of anguish and of mourning,
And when men perish, I rejoice
At death's untimely warning.
I fain would have the poet's fire,
To glorify in verses
Death, doom, and all disaster dire,
Shrouds, monument, and hearses.
I see the morgue with eager eyes,
The pastime never varies;
And I reap pleasure and surprise
Death in all forms to me is sweet,
And I am a believer
In awful plagues and pests effete
Polluting towns with fever.
War pleases me when thousands lie
Mangled in woods and closes;
And of all flowers beneath the sky
I worship tuberoses.
Do not misjudge and say I'm mad,
And cry against my maker,
But the truth is, my biz is bad,
And I'm an undertaker.
June 24, 2014
poetry published (in multiple languages) in periodicals throughout the country and the world, and edited his own humorous magazine. He left several thousand poems unpublished as well. Most of Saltus's poems were comical in nature and, as such, perhaps it is fitting he was buried in the famous Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, also the final resting place of another writer known for his humor, Washington Irving. His poem "The Delights of Doom":