SEPULTURE
Reading edition
Deep in my heart, as in the hollow stone And silence of some olden sepulchre, Thy silver beauty lies, and shall not stir— Forgotten, incorruptible, alone: Though altars darken, and a wind be blown From starless seas on beacon-fires that were— Within thy tomb, with oils of balm and myrrh, Forever burn the onyx lamps unknown. And though the bleak, Novembral gardens yield Rose-dust and ivy-leaf, nor any flow’r Be found through vermeil forest or wan field— Still, still the asphodel and lotos lie Around thy bed, and hour by silent hour, Exhale immortal fragrance like a sigh.