VIII
Andyou as well must die, beloved dust,And all your beauty stand you in no stead;This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,This body of flame and steel, before the gustOf Death, or under his autumnal frost,Shall be as any leaf, be no less deadThan the first leaf that fell,—this wonder fled,Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost.Nor shall my love avail you in your hour.In spite of all my love, you will ariseUpon that day and wander down the airObscurely as the unattended flower,It mattering not how beautiful you were,Or how beloved above all else that dies.
Andyou as well must die, beloved dust,And all your beauty stand you in no stead;This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,This body of flame and steel, before the gustOf Death, or under his autumnal frost,Shall be as any leaf, be no less deadThan the first leaf that fell,—this wonder fled,Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost.Nor shall my love avail you in your hour.In spite of all my love, you will ariseUpon that day and wander down the airObscurely as the unattended flower,It mattering not how beautiful you were,Or how beloved above all else that dies.
Andyou as well must die, beloved dust,And all your beauty stand you in no stead;This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,This body of flame and steel, before the gustOf Death, or under his autumnal frost,Shall be as any leaf, be no less deadThan the first leaf that fell,—this wonder fled,Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost.Nor shall my love avail you in your hour.In spite of all my love, you will ariseUpon that day and wander down the airObscurely as the unattended flower,It mattering not how beautiful you were,Or how beloved above all else that dies.