No longer mourn for me when I am dead Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if, I say, you look upon this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse. But let your love even with my life decay, Lest the wise world should look into your moan And mock you with me after I am gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HAWK by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS GERANIUMS by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 18. AL-RAZZAK by EDWIN ARNOLD SHIPS AT SUNSET by STANLEY E. BABB TO HIS LATE MAJESTY, CONCERNING..TRUE FORM OF ENGLISH POETRY by JOHN BEAUMONT ELECTRIC LIGHT-VERSE by L. ALLEN BECK SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HER NAME LIBERTY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |