 | The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes |  |
XLII. Dirge.
No tears, no sighings, no despair,No trembling dewy smile of care,
No mourning weeds,
Nought that discloses
A heart that bleeds;
But looks contented I will bear,
And o'er my cheeks strew roses.
Unto the world I may not weep,
But save my sorrow all, and keep
A secret heart, sweet soul, for thee,
As the great earth and swelling sea— [OMITTED]
| The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes | |