Lay a garland on my hearse,
Of the dismal yew,
Maidens, willow branches bear,
Say I died true.
My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth;
Upon my buried body lie
Lightly, gentle earth.
Francis Beaumont
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lay-a-garland-on-my-hearse-2/
