William Richard Torvaney - A Requiem

When time shall turn to me and say
'You Sir have had your little day,
But one last sip of wine - like Life
Then leave this world of stress and strife.'
Friends, when the last dread hour has come
And these my lips are cold and dumb,
Let no production of masonic art,
A broken obelisk, a chiselled heart,
Mark the fair landscape where I lie,
A grassy mound suffices me, hard by
A bunch of pale forget-me-nots, which like the skies,
Rival but ne'er outshine her sweet blue eyes.

William Richard Torvaney

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-requiem/