I dug, beneath the cypress shade,
What well might seem an elfin's grave;
And every pledge in earth I laid,
That erst thy false affection gave.
I pressed them down the sod beneath;
I placed one mossy stone above;
And twined the rose's fading wreath
Around the sepulchre of love.
Frail as thy love, the flowers were dead,
Ere yet the evening sun was set:
But years shall see the cypress spread,
Immutable as my regret.
More verses by Thomas Love Peacock
- The War Song Of Dinas Vawr
- Quintetto
- The Grave Of Love
- Palmyra (2nd Edition)
- A Bill For The Better Promotion Of Oppression On The Sabbath Day