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...FAITH by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LOVE'S TENDRILS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CRITIC AND POET by EMMA LAZARUS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: PENNIWIT, THE ARTIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WE HAVE GONE THROUGH GREAT ROOMS TOGETHER by CARL SANDBURG |