It may be I die today.
If it is, then who will say
That I always had a way
With people, or the other things
That eulogizing often brings
To mind for paupers and for kings
Alike, the gentle lies
With which the sermonizer tries
To soothe while fun'ral-goer cries?
I do not want them not to weep
When I am gone, or say I sleep,
For if they cry, they surely keep
Some ghost of love for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment