Virgins promised when I died,
That they would each primrose-tide
Duly, morn and evening, come,
And with flowers dress my tomb.
--Having promised, pay your debts
Maids, and here strew violets. 

Added: Jun 8 2005 | Viewed: 397 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Robert Herrick
Poem: AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD

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