Strew no more red roses
F. Bridge
Strew no more red roses, maidens,
Leave the lilies in the dew;
Pluck, pluck cypress, O pale maidens!
Dusk, O dusk the hall with yew!
Shall I seek, that I may scorn her,
Her I lov'd at eventide?
Shall I ask, what faded mourner
Stands at daybreak, weeping by my side?