A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick






75. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST

     Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be
     With leaves and moss-work for to cover me;
     And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter,
     Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister!
     For epitaph, in foliage, next write this:
     HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!

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