And paler than moonlight and marble
He lay on the red of that robe,
Lay white at her feet on the scarlet,
With silence-sealed lips and the glitter
Of tears in each violet globe
Of his eyes.—And she said: "It is bitter
To see him so still on this robe,
Like marble so still on this robe."
Then she knelt and cried out, "Art thou living?
Or dead?—Have I slain thee with song?—