Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
RequiescatRosamund Marriott Watson (18601911)
B
Far from the woods where sweet birds sing;
Lay me in sullen stone and lead,
Lest my poor dust should feel the Spring.
Nor starry cup nor slender stem,
Anemone nor violet,
Lest my poor dust remember them.
Dearer than birds, or flowers, or dew—
Never, ah me, pass never there,
Lest my poor dust should dream of you.