When I am dead, my dearest, / Sing no sad songs for me;
The poem asks for no roses or cypress at the grave, only “green grass above me / With showers and dewdrops wet”, and ends by saying the speaker may or may not remember the beloved. Rossetti wrote it in 1848, when she was 17.
Does the road wind up-hill all the way? / Yes, to the very end.
My heart is like a singing bird / Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
Remember me when I am gone away, / Gone far away into the silent land;
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.
All the world’s a stage, / And all the men and women merely players;