None Shall Weep a Tear for Me | ![]() |

Richard Henry Wilde, 1860
| My life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky, But, e'er the shades of evening close, Is scattered on the ground to die; Yet on the rose's humble head The sweetest dews of night are shed, As if they wept the waste to see, |: But none shall weep a tear for me, :| But none shall weep, shall weep a tear for me. | 2. My life is like the autumn leaf That trembles in the moons pale ray; Its hold is frail, its date is brief, 'Tis restless soon to pass away; Yet when that leaf shall fall and fade The parent tree will mourn its shade The winds bewail the leafless tree, |: But none shall breathe a sigh for me, :| But none shall breathe, shall breath a sigh for me. |
