Love came to me, taller than my vanity,
Stronger than my will,
More quieter than my contemplation,
Steadfastly contrast to my inconstant whim.
In his brave arms, held close against a heroic chest,
He cradled my darling, naked, wrapped in gauzy thread,
Resting, peaceful, silent, pale,
Reflecting the borrowed hue of her funeral veil.
Answering to my unspoken request,
He drew back modesty’s mantle
For me to see, to worship and adore,
She who was my goddess, my bliss, once more.
She is safe, she is home, she is where she ought to be,
But oh! what a void is left where once an angel stood.
What a wearying of the spark of life has come;
Grief is now the constant bedfellow of Love and I am undone.
