An Epitaph
To beauty's sovereign grace
I would have given, had I the power,
The wide world's every flower,
Each star from God's cloud-girdled dwelling-place.
Now, though the meads in bloom
Beseech me, with most lavish hands
Fast scattering flowers, and all the seas and lands
Bring gifts, I can but place them at a tomb.
I would have given, had I the power,
The wide world's every flower,
Each star from God's cloud-girdled dwelling-place.
Now, though the meads in bloom
Beseech me, with most lavish hands
Fast scattering flowers, and all the seas and lands
Bring gifts, I can but place them at a tomb.
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