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 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
157
DO NOT GRIEVE.
I would not have you mourn too much,
When I am lying low,—
Your grief would grieve me even then,
Should your tears flow.
When I am lying low,—
Your grief would grieve me even then,
Should your tears flow.
But only plant above my grave
One little sprig of rue;
Then find yourself a fairer love,
But not more true.
One little sprig of rue;
Then find yourself a fairer love,
But not more true.
The summer winds will come and go
Above me as I lie;
And if I think at all, my dear,
As they pass by,
Above me as I lie;
And if I think at all, my dear,
As they pass by,
I shall remember the old love,
With all its bliss and bane,—
Though Life nor Death can bring me back
The old, sweet pain.
With all its bliss and bane,—
Though Life nor Death can bring me back
The old, sweet pain.
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |