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 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
300
WHEN YOU ARE DEAD.
A LOVER SPEAKS.
When you are dead, my dainty dear,
And buried 'neath the grass,
Will something of you linger near,
And know me if I pass?
And buried 'neath the grass,
Will something of you linger near,
And know me if I pass?
Last night you wore a wild, sweet rose,
To match your sweet, wild grace—
The only flower on earth that grows
I liken to your face.
To match your sweet, wild grace—
The only flower on earth that grows
I liken to your face.
I would that I that rose had been,
To bloom upon your breast!
One golden hour I should have seen—
What matter for the rest?
To bloom upon your breast!
One golden hour I should have seen—
What matter for the rest?
To-day you will not grant my prayer,
Or listen while I plead—
But when you dwell alone, down there,
It may be you will heed;
Or listen while I plead—
But when you dwell alone, down there,
It may be you will heed;
And then your silent heart will stir
With some divine, sweet thrill,
To know that I, your worshipper,
Through death am faithful still;
With some divine, sweet thrill,
To know that I, your worshipper,
Through death am faithful still;
301
And something of you, lingering near,
May bless me if I pass—
When you are dead, my dainty dear,
And buried 'neath the grass.
May bless me if I pass—
When you are dead, my dainty dear,
And buried 'neath the grass.
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |