6. The Parting
In the deep guard of the garden, with its arms around her thrown,
There I laid her with the roses for her winding-sheet alone,
And the silent heart within her made no quiver of her breast,
Though the flood that stole her from me left its crimson on her vest.
Yea, I laid her there alone, when our love was just begun,
And I stared in still amazement to behold the tearless Sun.
Then they tried to come between us, and I slew them when they tried,
For I wanted one more silence with my sweetheart and my bride;
So the world swept on around us while the rose-leaves gathered deep
On the fragrant tomb that held her fast, and lulled my love to sleep.
Then I raised my hands on high, to the barren morning sky,
And I cursed with every oath I knew, the One who let her die.
Yea, my days should reek with crimson!... On the sudden, round her head,
Glimmered something that is given to a maiden who is dead,
And I stilled my oaths in wonder and my heart stood hushed to see
How a maiden in her dying consecrated Love for me!
Then I left her there alone, with the roses for her throne,
And I gathered Love within me for the roses he had blown,—
And in the silent sunrise, Beauty gathered in her own.