It Is Crowd Of Flowers Haunts Not Death Feared Poem by Terence George Craddock

now he is wretched dying grave already aired
it is crowd of flowers haunts not death feared
scent of flowers scorned fills mind visions
memory painful mocking are heart incisions;

flowers were ladies fair a proud nobleman
was too proud too arrogant lazy to chase then
timed ladies revenge crowd flowers blooms
entices in memories lost chase chances curses;

a once proud nobleman now old dying fool
heart beat too weak skin too pale too cool
he never heard 'it is better to have loved lost;

than never to have loved at all' now counts cost
seems on his death bed he lusts in dying regret
for chase never made for sweet lovers not met;