The Posthumous Poems of Edmund St James

This poem was discovered amongst our dear friend the late Edmund St James' unpublished literary papers.

UNTITLED
(after Andre Maurois)

Death comes; listen to Destiny singing:
Forget me quickly,
Mourning dress is charming,
For six months only.

Don’t stand beside my grave weeping
Nor place flowers on my tomb,
Keep your flowers for the living,
Who can see them bloom.

Don’t morn me. Where I sleep
There are no songs
And my body feeds
The grass, green and long.

But if one melancholy afternoon, wreathed
In tendrils of autumn mist,
You resume that Madonna face,
That I oft kissed

That gentle melancholy air
That once I loved so much:
Then forget that you have forgotten me
For one brief touch.

As our late, lamented Edmund's literary executor, although I may not sympathise with some of the poem's more unorthodox sentiments, I nonetheless thought I should release it to the world as an example of Edmund's talent, whether as a translator or as an original artist. Amongst dear Edmund's voluminous papers I am sure there are other gems to come.

Father Aloysius Gonzaga Lancelot O'Boyle