The Image
Reading edition
Dim the light in your faces: be passionless in the room. Snuffed are the tapers, and bitterly hang on the flowerless air: See: and this is the Image of her they will lay in the tomb, Clear, and waxen, and cooled in the mass of her hair. Quiet the tears in your voices: feel lightly, finger, for finger In love: then see how like is the Image, but lifelessly fashioned And sightless, calm, unloving ... Oh who is the Artist? Oh linger And ponder whither has flitted his Sitter Impassioned.