 | Sonnets, Lyrics and Translations |  |
100
BY A DEATH-BED.
I cannot go; I needs must linger,
While yet thou art outside the tomb;
To close thy lids with trembling finger,
And kiss the cheek that cannot bloom.
While yet thou art outside the tomb;
To close thy lids with trembling finger,
And kiss the cheek that cannot bloom.
For, as by mercy's kind concession,
To soothe the mourner who remains,
Full many a trace of Life's expression,
The earliest hour of Death retains.
To soothe the mourner who remains,
Full many a trace of Life's expression,
The earliest hour of Death retains.
Affection's dictates still obeying,
I will not leave thee, while a trace—
The faintest trace, and that decaying,
Yet beams upon thy lifeless face.
I will not leave thee, while a trace—
The faintest trace, and that decaying,
Yet beams upon thy lifeless face.
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