Author Robert Herrick A funeral stoneOr verse, I covet none;But only craveOf you that I may haveA sacred laurel springing from my grave:Which being seenBlest with perpetual green,May grow to beNot so much call'd a tree,As the eternal monument of me. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments