Forget Thyself To Marble.

Know Thy Birth! For Dost Thou Art, And Shalt To Dust Return.

With Cowslips Wan That Hang The Pensive Head, And Every Flower That Sad Embroidery Wears.

Bid Amaranthus All His Beauty Shed, And Daffodillies Fill Their Cups With Tears, To Strew The Laureate To Hearse When Lycid Lies.

In Naked Beauty Most Adorned.

Never Can True Reconcilement Grow Where Wounds Of Deadly Hate Have Pierced So Deep.