Sonnet XXXIX: Prepare Your Wreaths
Prepare your wreaths, Aonian maids divine,To strew the tranquil bed where I shall sleep;In tears, the myrtle and the laurel steep,And let Erato's hand the trophies twine.No parian marble, there, with labour'd line,Shall bid the wand'ring lover stay to weep;There holy silence shall her vigils keep.Save, when the nightingale such woes as mineShall sadly sing; as twilight's curtains spread,There shall the branching lotos widely wave,Sprinkling soft show'rs upon the lily's head,Sweet drooping emblem for a lover's grave!And there shall Phaon pearls of pity shed,To gem the vanquish'd heart he scorn'd to save!
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