PLANT o'er my grave, whene'er Death's slumber chances, Sweet roses, climbing vines the spot to gladden; And when the rosebuds burst their mimic lances, And when the vines with purple grapes are laden, When Spring and Autumn bring their merry dances, This song shall o'er me sound of youth and maiden: 'As erst in life, in death he now reposes, Just as he wished, among the vines and roses.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE MOON by HAYDEN CARRUTH DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE CANDLE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE CHANT OF THE VULTURES by EDWIN MARKHAM |