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".