CHASTELARD TO MARY STUART.
(1563.)
Then send me to my death. But wilt thou rid
Thy life of me thereby? If in the gloom
Of thy adored and silent balmy room
My ghost should glide, where once I panting hid?
At night thou'lt see me; though thou close thy lid
As tightly as they soldered down my tomb,
And feel a kiss—thou shalt know well of whom—
Scorch thee as living kisses never did.
When thou shalt die, at Heaven's gate I'll sit
And watch the stream of silent souls that wend
Through the great arch, till thou approachest it.
Or if thy doom be flame, I shall descend
Through all the caverns where the lost souls flit,
To find and clasp thee at their endless end.
