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
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