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Thomas Love Peacock

The Grave of Love

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 press'd 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.

About the poet
Thomas Love Peacock
 
By the same poet
Love and Age
Three Men of Gotham
 
Related books
Thomas Love Peacock at amazon.co.uk