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139
REQUIEM.
Withered pansies faint and sweet,
O'er his breast in silence shed,
Faded lilies o'er his feet,
Waning roses round his head,
Where in dreamless sleep he lies—
Folded palms and sealèd eyes,—
Young Love, within my bosom—dead.
O'er his breast in silence shed,
Faded lilies o'er his feet,
Waning roses round his head,
Where in dreamless sleep he lies—
Folded palms and sealèd eyes,—
Young Love, within my bosom—dead.
Young Love that was so fond, so fair,
With his mouth of rosy red,
Argent wing and golden hair,
And those blue eyen, glory-fed
From some fount of splendour, far
Beyond or moon, or sun, or star—
And can it be that he is dead?
With his mouth of rosy red,
Argent wing and golden hair,
And those blue eyen, glory-fed
From some fount of splendour, far
Beyond or moon, or sun, or star—
And can it be that he is dead?
140
Ay! his breast is cold as snow:
Pulse and breath for ever fled;—
If I kist him ever so,
To my kiss he were as lead;
If I clipt him as of yore
He would answer me no more
With lip or hand—for he is dead.
Pulse and breath for ever fled;—
If I kist him ever so,
To my kiss he were as lead;
If I clipt him as of yore
He would answer me no more
With lip or hand—for he is dead.
But breathe no futile sigh; no tear
Smirch his pure and lonely bed.
Let no foolish cippus rear
Its weight above him. Only spread
Rose, lily, pale forget-me-not,
And pansies round the silent spot
Where in his youth he lieth—dead.
Smirch his pure and lonely bed.
Let no foolish cippus rear
Its weight above him. Only spread
Rose, lily, pale forget-me-not,
And pansies round the silent spot
Where in his youth he lieth—dead.
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