Rose Leaves
When they shall close my careless eyes
And look their last upon my face,
I fear that some will say: “her lies
A man of deep disgrace;
His thoughts were bare, his words were brittle,
He dreamed so much, he did so little.
When they shall seal y coffin lid
And this worn mask I know as ME,
Shall from the sight of man be hid
To all eternity —
Some one may say: ”His sins were many,
His virtues —really, had he any?"
When I shall lie beneath my tomb,
Oh do not grave it with my name
But let one rose—bush o’er me bloom,
And heedless of my shame,
With velvet shade and loving laugh,
In petals write my epitaph.
Other works by Robert W. Service...
