The snowy lilies gird her pith - in wake; bejewelled love reposed in truest sleep as Floras' wreath outdone by sorrow's make, then thought; what comfort worth are stems - to weep?
Could petals glint upon her sombre plume and sorb bereaving rain - of mourning kin, or priestly Latin's timbre out of gloom and Schuberts' toned refrain - a lighter hymn.
Although, a striking; flowered plush pervades as fragrance spliced with copal - yields in heart and over each an ashing pyre cascades, begotten times and seasons - death not part.
Embraced the blossoms, now upon her lay; a sweeten lilly - kissed by loves defray.