Author Beaumont and Fletcher Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew, Maidens, willow branches bear, Say I died true. My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth; Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth. Tags birth love Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments