Requiescat
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Tuead lightly,sheis near
Under the snow,
Speak gently,she can her
The daisies grow.
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All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.
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Lily-like,white as snow,
She hardly knew
She was a woman,so
Sweetly she grew.
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Coffin-board,heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone
She is at rest.
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Peace,peace,she cannothear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life's buried here,
Heap earth upon it.
-Avignon