And turn our nimble bodies carrion,
Our red lips dusty;—yet our live lips cling
Despite that age-long severance and are one
Despite the grave and the vain grief thereof,—
Which we will baffle, if in Death’s domain
Fond memories may enter, and we twain
May dream a little, and rehearse again
In that unending sleep our present love.
“Speed forth to her in halting unison,
My rhymes: and say no hindrance may restrain