A Lament

As when the autumn sheds its' coat
Of withering leaves, too close to death,
So I must leave and be forgot--
Oh, my love! Hold not baited breath
For I, whom bleeds to hear thee cry
Of lover's immortality:
Oh, let no such sad words be saith.

In yon distance the sun withdraws
To furthest reaches of the earth.
This man, it's travelling partner, soars
On withered hope, for all it's worth.
And if I but remember thee
Through harrowing melancholy,
My dear, I shall have saved us both.

No fruit is safe from infection
That chokes out all trace of beauty:
Thus on an inward reflection
A sight forbidden there I see,
Of thy breast heaving with thy love,
Which impels, yet is not enough
In any power to save me.

A single ray of the suns' light,
As I, goes thus by small degrees,
And hath not the heavenly might
To prevent it--oh, from thy knees
Arise! And here see off the sun,
And kiss for the last time the one
Who never shall twice feel this breeze.

The End

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