Explore "Come Away" by Alice Meynell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
COME away, come away, Death,
And in sad cypres let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet / On my black coffin let there be strown; / Not a friend, not a friend greet / My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown; / A thousand, thousand sighs to save, / Lay me, O where / Sad true lover ne'er may find my grave / To weep there.