Of lusty May! Ah life as frail as flower!
O ghastly Death! withdraw thy cruel hand!
Seek'st thou that flower to deck thy horrid temples?
"My lord was like a star in highest heaven
Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness;
My lord was like the opening eyes of day,
When western winds creep softly oer the flowers.
"But he is darkened; like the summer's noon
Clouded; fall'n like the stately tree, cut down;
The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves,'