[I Want No Weeping at My Grave]

I want no weeping at my grave,
except my wife’s lamenting brief;
I need no tears of yours and save,
oh save yourselves the bogus grief.
I want no moaning of a bell
nor all that mourners’ gloomy yowling;
oh, may the wind and rain raise hell,
and to my funeral come howling.
A lump of earth, if you’re so bound,
hurl down before it’s through, and may
the Sun illume my burial mound,
and ever burn the withered clay.