Last Words.
Dear hearts, whose love has been so sweet to know, That I am looking backward as I go, Am lingering while I haste, and in this rain Of tears of joy am mingling tears of pain; Do not adorn with costly shrub, or tree, Or flower, the little grave which shelters me. Let the wild wind-sown seeds grow up unharmed* And hack and forth all summer, unalarmed
Let all the tiny, busy creatures creep ; Let the sweet grass its last year’s tangles keep; And when, remembering me. you come some day And stand there, speak no praise, but'only say, * How she lored us! It waß for that she was so dear !’ These are the only words that I shall smile to hear.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZMAIL18870401.2.5.2
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Mail, Issue 787, 1 April 1887, Page 4
Word Count
124Last Words. New Zealand Mail, Issue 787, 1 April 1887, Page 4
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