Death calls to me.

I kneel before her at full length—
Beside my lyre she would now dwell,
She was my smiling and my Soul!
Laid her on my golden door—
Beside my heart, she was my bride.
Laid her on my throne in sky—
An angel throng! with her bright eyes.



Death kissed my lips.

And when my deep blush went in gold,
I reached the end of her bright eyes—
She was my own sweet dream!
Shed all around me in a winter night,
Laid her wide head on my gold light.
Thus on that eve, as on that night
Held her white breast with its love light,
Kind solace to her burning sight!