Oh, let it be a night of lyric rain And singing breezes, when my bell is tolled. I have so loved the rain that I would hold Last in my ears its friendly, dim refraln. I shall lie cool and quiet, who have lain Fevered, and watched the book of day unfold. Death will not see me flinch; the heart is bold That pain has made incapable of pain. Kinder the busy worms than ever love; It will be peace to lie there, empty-eyed, My bed made secret by the leveling showers, My breast replenishing the weeds above. And you will say of me, "Then has she died? Perhaps I should have sent a spray of flowers."