Ah, my Perilla, dost thou grieve to see br Me day by day to steal away from thee? br Age calls me hence, and my grey hairs bid come, br And haste away to mine eternal home. br 'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this, br That I must give thee the supremest kiss. br Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring br Part of the cream from that religious spring, br With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet. br That done, then wind me in that very sheet br Which wrapped thy smooth limbs when thou didst implore br The gods' protection but the night before. br Follow me weeping to my turf, and there br Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear; br Then, lastly, let some weekly-strewings be br Devoted to the memory of me: br Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep br Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep.