I WOULD not have you mourn too much, When I am lying low, -- Your grief would grieve me even then, Should your tears flow. But only plant above my grave One little sprig of rue; Then find yourself a fairer love, But not more true. The summer winds will come and go Above me as I lie; And if I think at all, my dear, As they pass by, I shall remember the old love, With all its bliss and bane, -- Though Life nor Death can bring me back The old, sweet pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGIAC SONNET: 4. TO THE MOON by CHARLOTTE SMITH ILICET by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE WINDOW; OR, THE SONG OF THE WRENS: THE LETTER by ALFRED TENNYSON ALEXANDER VI DINES WITH THE CARDINAL OF CAPUA by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE RACING CARS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THEIR VERY MEMORY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. GRACIOUS MOTHER by EDWARD CARPENTER |