Let the word Of sorrow cease, She had heard Enough of these. Strew no flower. Cut no stone. Let the shower Fall alone. Skies will weep And winds complain -- Let her sleep Here in the rain, Till the grass Creep softly over, Making last A fitting cover. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WILLOW POEM by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS HOLY WILLIE'S PRAYER by ROBERT BURNS GRANDMOTHER'S TEACHING by ALFRED AUSTIN LOVES MONARCHIE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE WASHINGTON BICENTENNIAL by CLARA BECK SONG ON THE WATER (2) by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES FIAMMETTA: SONNET. OF HIS LAST SIGHT OF FIAMMETTA by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO |