The Grave of Love（1/1）

Thoas Love Peack

I dug, beh the cypress shade,

What well ight see an elfs grave;

And every pledgeearth I id,

That erst thy false affe gave,

I pressed the down the sod beh;

I pced one ossy stone above;

Ahe roses fadg wreath

Around the sepulcher of love.

Frail as thy love, the flowers were dead,

Ere yet the eveng sun was set:

But years shall see the cypress spread,

Iutable as y regret.