Lay A Garland On My Hearse

Poem By Francis Beaumont

Lay a garland on my hearse,
Of the dismal yew,
Maidens, willow branches bear,
Say I died true.
My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth;
Upon my buried body lie
Lightly, gentle earth.

Comments about Lay A Garland On My Hearse

My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth; Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth. /// beautiful poem penned; superb
A nice poem indeed. Loved reading it.
Ah, spoken from the heart! A great poem of the day!
Succinct poem about Death and being buried and the omnipresence of earth over him.
A great philosophical poem with spiritual mind set inked by a great poet, well deserved classic poem of the Day.


3,8 out of 5
27 total ratings

Other poems of BEAUMONT

On The Tombs In Westminster Abbey

MORTALITY, behold and fear!
What a change of flesh is here!
Think how many royal bones
Sleep within this heap of stones:

The Author To The Reader

I sing the fortune of a luckless pair,
Whose spotless souls now in one body be;
For beauty still is Prodromus to care,
Crost by the sad stars of nativity:

The Indifferent

Never more will I protest,
To love a woman but in jest:
For as they cannot be true,
So, to give each man his due,

Mr. Francis Beaumont's Letter To Ben Jonson

The sun, which doth the greatest comfort bring
To absent friends (because the self-same thing
They know they see, however absent), is
Here our best hay-maker (forgive me this,

True Beauty

May I find a woman fair,
And her mind as clear as air,
If her beauty go alone,
'Tis to me as if't were none.