Song by Christina Rossetti When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget. On Parting by William Jay Smith Time that is recorded is not now, Now when the train is leaving, and the clock Is hooded in the distance, when the heart cries: How Can you be leaving, for there is no time? Some delight in the journey, in the crossing Of accepted boundaries; you go Knowing you love what's left, yourself, your loss Of― knowing the wheels will say, You do not know. Rain is falling, and there is no rest. Where are there tears enough to drown the sun? Love also dies; the dead have loved you best: Look for them there in the dark where the rails run. Acquainted With The Night by Robert Frost I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-by; And further still at an unearthly height, One luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night. Song from Ælla: Under the Willow Tree, or, Minstrel's Roundelay by Thomas Chatterton See! the white moon shines on high; Whiter is my true-love's shroud: Whiter than the morning sky, Whiter than the evening cloud: