Read This And Weep For The Ladies Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

Oh Eglantine, sweet Eglantine.
The air is filled with thy perfume.
Thou clingest to my lover’s tomb
and make a hallowed spot divine.

I would that I could hold her close.
As I was wont in days of yore
Alack alas I can no more
as thou dost still sweet brier rose.

Still faithful to her memory
I privately express my grief.
Although I find but small relief
I kneel and pray here frequently.

She was too perfect for this world.
The angels claimed her as their own
and I was left to grieve alone
Into despair I was thus hurled.

Oh Eglantine, sweet Eglantine
Thou guardest well her final sleep
and watered by the tears I weep
Her bones will with thy roots combine.

When my time comes I too will die
join my beloved in this tomb
Provide thee nourishment to bloom
Thou knowest well I do not lie.

Bloom on bloom on sweet Eglantine
Let thy perfume still fill the air.
I will not find it hard to bear
When she and I and thou combine.

10/07/2009

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