WHEN you are dead, my dainty dear, And buried 'neath the grass, Will something of you linger near, And know me if I pass? Last night you wore a wild, sweet rose, To match your sweet, wild grace -- The only flower on earth that grows I liken to your face. I would that I that rose had been, To bloom upon your breast! One golden hour I should have seen -- What matter for the rest? To-day you will not grant my prayer, Or listen while I plead -- But when you dwell alone, down there, It may be you will heed; And then your silent heart will stir With some divine, sweet thrill, To know that I, your worshipper, Through death am faithful still; And something of you, lingering near, May bless me if I pass -- When you are dead, my dainty dear, And buried 'neath the grass. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEW YEAR'S DAWN - BROADWAY by SARA TEASDALE CHILD'S EVENING HYMN by SABINE BARING-GOULD THE BLACK REGIMENT by GEORGE HENRY BOKER THE SKELETON OF THE FUTURE; AT LENIN'S TOMB by CHRISTOPHER MURRAY GRIEVE THE CHURCH-PORCH by GEORGE HERBERT BALLADE OF BLUE CHINA by ANDREW LANG MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 7 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |