Terminus
Do not stand by my grave and weep
Do not stand by my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush.
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand by my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
anon
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush.
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand by my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
anon
Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast above all the flowers of
the field. When its leaves are all dead and the fine colors are lost.
Still how sweet a perfume it will yield.
