Thank you Dr. Meyer. I do not know I could not mourn your passing. I hope for my sake you can put it off as long as reasonably possible. My love for you (since the poem uses this word) is something I do not know how to express.

Nikola.

On Fri, Feb 4, 2022 at 1:13 PM Ernst Meyer <ernstmeyer@earthlink.net> wrote:


    No longer mourn for me when I am dead
    Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
    Give warning to the world that I am fled
    From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell;
    Nay, if you read this line, remember not
    The hand that writ it; for I love you so,
    That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
    If thinking on me then should make you woe.
    O, if (I say) you look upon this verse,
    When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,
    Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,
    But let your love even with my life decay,
    Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
    And mock you with me after I am gone.