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...A FOREST HYMN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT SEA GODS: 2 by HILDA DOOLITTLE ON SOMETHING THAT WALKS SOMEWHERE by BEN JONSON PREFATORY POEM TO MY BROTHER'S SONNETS by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DEATH OF HUSS by ALFRED AUSTIN TREES BE COMPANY by WILLIAM BARNES |