Classic Poem

Upon your sunken cheek a hectic stain!
Upon your parted lips a cry of lust!—
Death stands beside your bed, and die you must!
You long to live, and know you long in vain.

Beneath the snow-clad earth your beauty soon
Shall unremembered be,—and you will sleep
While moaning winds above your grave shall sweep,
And forest-owls sit screaming at the moon.

Are you afraid of death? I know indeed
Your young and timid years the end resent;
Those lovely lips—once red—were never meant
To kiss and suffer kissing without greed.

For me what matters? I have understood
The pain and stress of strange idolatries;
Have wrought the nameless curse of desperate eyes,
And played with passion in an easy mood.

But I have kissed to-day, as never yet,
Your sinking bosom till my passions ache,—
And I would gladly perish for your sake,
My early star of love—so early set!

One little hour—no more—for breathing space!
Death stands beside your bed—and you must die!
One lessening hour—and still the moments fly;
I hear your clock tick out the hour of grace.