Apr. 2nd, 2010

kaoniki: (Default)
He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.
White his shroud as the mountain snow,
Larded with sweet flowers
Which bewept to the grave did go
With true-love showers.



There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.
O, you must wear your rue with a difference.
I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father
died.

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy
And will he not come again?
And will he not come again?

I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I
cannot choose but weep.

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kaoniki: (Default)
kaoniki

August 2012

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