Wreathe no more lilies in my hair, For I am dying, Sister sweet: Or if you will for the last time Indeed, why make me fair Once for my windingsheet. Pluck no more roses for my breast, For I like them fade in my prime: Or if you will, why pluck them still That they may share my rest Once more, for the last time. Weep not for me when I am gone, Dear tender one, but hope and smile: Or if you cannot choose but weep A little while, weep on Only a little while. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD SEXTON by PARK BENJAMIN SONG FOR THE LUDDITES by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO MY INCONSTANT MISTRESS by THOMAS CAREW PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 52. YA HAKK by EDWIN ARNOLD PARADISE by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN EARLY AND LATE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |