Prepare your wreaths, Aonian maids divine, To strew the tranquil bed where I shall sleep; In tears, the myrtle and the laurel steep, And let Erato's hand the trophies twine. No parian marble, there, with labored line, Shall bid the wandering lover stay to weep; There holy silence shall her vigils keep, Save, when the nightingale such woes as mine Shall sadly sing; as twilight's curtains spread, There shall the branching lotus widely wave, Sprinkling soft showers upon the lily's head, Sweet drooping emblem for a lover's grave! And there shall Phaon pearls of pity shed, To gem the vanquished heart he scorned to save! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1718 by JONATHAN SWIFT LET ME FORGET by OMA CARLYLE ANDERSON TO ONE WHO DIED LAST YEAR by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD THERE WAS A GARDEN by MARIE BARTON EPITAPH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |