When o’er me you lay the blanket,
Of this earths protecting sod;
And you set me down forever
With my soul called back to God.
Oh, lay me down by the River Seine,
By the grasses green, and the willows wide;
Beside the spruce that I love so well
There let my clay fore’er abide.
Think not of me in the cold, dark ground,
But of my new, Angelic form;
Waiting for you, up in Heaven,
Done - the restless, bittersweet storm!
Oh weep for me, my loved ones dear!
Let the healing tears overflow,
Let the pain of the loved and lost
O’er my wooden casket flow.
Weep for me, then weep no more -
But turn again to this world and strife;
Hold fast your soul in the love of God,
That we meet again in Eternal life.
No restless script upon on my stone,
No flattering words o’er my pallid brow;
But write of love, and truth, and judgment,
And, could they, should they, rhyme, somehow?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem