Rid of the world's injustice, and his pain,
He rests at last beneath God's veil of blue;
Taken from life when life and love were new
The youngest of the martyrs here is lain,
Fair as Sebastian, and as early slain.
No cypress shades his grave, no funeral yew,
But gentle violets weeping with the dew
Weave on his bones an ever-blossoming chain.
O proudest heart that broke for misery!
O sweetest lips since those of Mitylene!
O poet-painter of our English Land!
Thy name was writ in water—it shall stand;
And tears like mine will keep thy memory green,
As Isabella did her Basil-tree.
Keats’s grave is famous for the simple phrase engraved on it, which he himself requested: 
 Here lies one whose name was writ in water. 
 Robert Ross, fellow famous writer as well as best friend of Wilde, once joked of wanting his own grave to read “Here lies one whose name was writ in hot water”–which ultimately did not happen.
The Grave of Keats