Death, when thou shalt come to me
Out of thy dark, where she is now,
Let no faint perfume cling to thee
Of withered roses on thy brow.
Strong as Death
written byHenry Cuyler Bunner
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
Death, when thou shalt come to me
Out of thy dark, where she is now,
Let no faint perfume cling to thee
Of withered roses on thy brow.
© Henry Cuyler Bunner