Forget me, Sweetest-heart, and nevermore
Turn to look back on what has gone before,
Or say, ‘Such love was brief, but wondrous fair;
The past is past for ever; have no care
Or thought for me at all, no tear or sigh,
Or faint regret; for, Dearest, I shall die
And dream of you i’ the dark, beneath the grass;
And o’er my head perchance your feet may pass,
Lulling me faster into sleep profound
Among the fairies of the fruitful ground.