IDENTITY
I am the blood that burns,
The flesh that dies,
The haunted heart that turns
To Paradise,
The soul that laugheth low
And whispereth
There are sweet things to know
After—Death.
Such powers am I, and more
Both good and bad;
Nor all the learnéd lore
Solomon had
Could ill and good dissever.
Yet this is true:
Naught’s me that doth not ever
Cleave to you.