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...SONG by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT by JONATHAN SWIFT MEMORY'S VISIT by DEAN ALETTA BAILLIE THE SMUGGLER'S LEAP; A LEGEND OF THANET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM HYMN, COMPOSED FOR THE CHILDREN OF A SUNDAY SCHOOL by BERNARD BARTON |