“In a Burying Ground” imagines a speaker looking at the exact spot where she will one day be buried. She describes it with surprising calm—not as a grim place, but as a patch of grass and flowers that will keep growing above her. The grasses will blow like a sea, the lilies will draw life from her body, and her own warmth will feed blue blossoms on a vine. There is no horror in this, only a quiet acceptance that death feeds new life.
The final stanza adds a strange, gentle note. When the speaker asks her soul why it does not mourn the body, the soul answers carelessly that the myrtle flowers will simply grow bluer. It sounds cool, even dismissive, but also peaceful. The overall mood is serene and slightly melancholy, as if the speaker has already made peace with becoming part of the earth.