It nods and curtseys and recovers <br />When the wind blows above, <br />The nettle on the graves of lovers <br />That hanged themselves for love. <br /> <br />The nettle nods, the wind blows over, <br />The man, he does not move, <br />The lover of the grave, the lover <br />That hanged himself for love.<br /><br />Alfred Edward Housman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-nods-and-curtseys-and-recovers/
