sad love poem

if i should die, think only this of me
from song and dream for ever gone
shadows lay along broadway
i saw with open eyes
uplifting, as the wind blew
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
my mother taught me that every night
and breaketh bread no more
daughter, thou art come to die
there were three in the meadow by the brook
god
when the hours of day are numbered
do not turn your head