Here you will find the Poem The Swallow Leaves Her Nest of poet Thomas Lovell Beddoes
THE swallow leaves her nest, The soul my weary breast; But therefore let the rain On my grave Fall pure; for why complain? Since both will come again O'er the wave. The wind dead leaves and snow Doth hurry to and fro; And, once, a day shall break O'er the wave, When a storm of ghosts shall shake The dead, until they wake In the grave.
