With certainty Death stalks us madly
tho' wind and flower and sun and tree
laugh at the poison dart it swallows
enwrapped in warmth where blind eyes see.
And lovers lost through curtains sadly
draw close to drown and outlive Life
dumb as the capsized moon in sorrows
cold as the cold of the coldest knife.
Tho' some incline to take it badly
others cast down the garb of night
enchanted in their lost tomorrows
entwined in twisted strands of Light.
So to the crypt they journey gladly
with sunken eye in bitter tear
chanted in song with the tongue of the swallow
shattered by spectres, loved without Fear.
With traceless blush Life rushes madly
with joyous heart to wormwood tomb
the winding Roads, broad, deep, and hollow
with chilly flesh hath passed too soon.
