The Poetical Works of Ernest Christopher Dowson Edited, with an introduction, by Desmond Flower |
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IT IS FINISHED |
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 | The Poetical Works of Ernest Christopher Dowson |  |
143
IT IS FINISHED
The pure grey eyes are closèd now,
They shall not look on yours again;
Upon that pale and perfect brow,
There stays no sign of grief or pain.
They shall not look on yours again;
Upon that pale and perfect brow,
There stays no sign of grief or pain.
The little face is white and cold,
The parted lips give forth no breath,
The grape-like curls of sun-bleached gold,
Are clammy with the dews of death.
The parted lips give forth no breath,
The grape-like curls of sun-bleached gold,
Are clammy with the dews of death.
Speak to her and she will not hear,
Caress her, but she will not move,
No longer feels she hope or fear,
No longer knows she hate or love.
Caress her, but she will not move,
No longer feels she hope or fear,
No longer knows she hate or love.
Ah dream no false or futile dreams,
Nor lull thyself on fantasy,
That death is other than it seems,
Or leads to immortality.
Nor lull thyself on fantasy,
That death is other than it seems,
Or leads to immortality.
She will not speak to thee again,
Tho' thy whole soul in tears be shed,
For tears and prayers are all in vain,
She is but dead, she is but dead!
Tho' thy whole soul in tears be shed,
For tears and prayers are all in vain,
She is but dead, she is but dead!
| The Poetical Works of Ernest Christopher Dowson | |