"Hast thou come? what hast Thou brought for me?" Asked she. Then he, dreamt she, bent lower To bring the flower Nearer to her Whitening, cooling lips and nose ... Like fading rose Falling to repose. "What hast thou brought for My bridal hour?" Asked a whisper: Then his arms gathered the cold Body, death-cold, Whilom of gold. "Sweet flower!" said she. Faded her last kiss On death's lips. |