And when I am gone,
Remember how I wished you tell this to your son
That he should read not my lines
As the blasphemers study the stars for signs,
Nor count this testament his lot to grieve
For having not the grace
To indeed see me to face,
To be my beloved when I live.
Do not let your tears reveal
All I strive to keep from your son not to feel;
Should I hurt you, please forgive me
For all my wrongs to you in love be.
Tell this to your son: "He loves you
And I do love him too".