Masked in the beauty of the May-dawn's birth,
Death came and kissed the brow still nobly fair,
And hushed that heart of youth for which the earth
Still kept its morning air.
Long time initiate in her lovely lore,
Now is he one with Nature's woods and streams,
Whereof, a Paradisal robe, he wore
The visionary gleams.
When from his lips immortal music broke,