I shall not care

When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out here rain-drenched hair,
Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.

I shall have peace, as leafly trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough,
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now

Sara Teasdale

The dying lover

The grass that is under me now
Will soon be over me, sweet;
When you walk this way again
I shall not hear your feet.

You may walk this way again,
And shed your tears like dew;
They will be no more to me then
Than mine are now to you!

Richard Henry Stoddard