A Pall to Bless
Out of my long and utter loneliness,
I weave a shroud of words wherein to lay
The body of this love; a pall to bless
The image that I offer to decay.
Farewell, O craven and corruptive pain,
Farewell, immortal joy I could not hold;
No more am I your refuge from the rain,
No more your shelter from the blighting cold.
You sleep forever shielded from the frost,
An enemy befriended by the snow;
And that you lived, and that you now are lost,
No man of all the scornful earth can know
Save one who hears, affrighted and alone,
This strange black music singing out of stone!
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