Lutetia Sue Plover Born 1862 - Died 1923 Whoever you may be, grieve not Because my stone is small Or seems thus but an afterthought. What need have I for more than this? I loved the world withal And yield rather with a kiss. Though we are passers-by today (Bless you who’ve come to call) Be in no hurry. If I may, Don’t think of me as being gone Say rather: ‘Twas time that I move on.
- Sorry I’ve been quiet these last couple weeks. I’ve been under the weather. Thought I’d post this little poem from my novel. I wrote it specifically for the book and deliberately drafted it in an antiquated style—something I thought might be believable for 1923. Around that time Frost was already underway and had returned from England. He had just taken up a teaching position at Amherst College, EA Robinson was widely read and Edna Saint Vincent Millay had just wowed the literary establishment with Renascence. So, I thought, what might someone, having read them, write for themselves around this time?