Enough, enough and in plenty
There will be three books at my obsequies
Which I take, my not unworthy gift, to Persephone.

You will follow the bare scarified breast
Nor will you be weary of calling my name, nor too
weary

To place the last kiss on my lips
When the Syrian onyx is broken.

--Ezra Pound, of course

I can't help but love the Cantos, even if parts of their maker trouble me. Such music. "Not deeds, but hopes" I heard them described but I think they are poetry with a capital P. Yummy musics.