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Show While I Am Here. Save not the roses of your love for me To place them in a garland on my bier. I shall not need them then, for death shall cere My eyelids fast, so that I shall not see Their radiant beauty, and their scent will be But spent for me in vain; a sigh, a tear x Or two perhaps, is all I ask thee, dear When I shall pass across the crystal sea. Now, now, while I am here, your tenderness ten-derness I fain would know, your blossoms bright possess The glow and fragrance of your loving thought, For I while auick and warm do far more crave One tiny bud, one blue forget-me-not. Than countless roses heaped upon my grave. |