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.

1. The Conclusion
2. The Examination of His Mistress's Perfections
3. A Funeral Elegy on the Death of the Lady Penelope Clifton
4. Ad Comitissam Rutlandiæ
5. Salmacis and Hermaphroditus

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