Wnen I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree. Be the green grass above me, With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forger. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale, Sing on as if in pain. And dreaming through the twilight, That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forger. |
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