Blackberries | ||
[Who will sorrow when I die?]
Who will sorrow when I die?Tell me who, and tell me why?
He whose leasehold void is made;
He who cheats me in his trade;
He who reckons on mine alms;
He, being older, that feels qualms.
Some, for snap of custom's tie,
Wer't but the seeing of the eye,
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Others, name and date being redd,
Will feel a pleasure that I'm dead.
Perhaps a tear may, after all,
On my lower'd coffin fall.
Blackberries | ||