|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry | |||
A little cross, To tell my loss; A little bed To rest my head; A little tear is all I crave Upon my very little grave. I strew thy bed Who loved thy lays; The tear I shed, The cross I raise, With nothing more upon it than- Here lies the little friend of Man! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |
| |