I love you more than Death: your mournful head,
Your shrouding hair, and your unfathom'd eyes,
And your white body beautiful, alas,
Priestess and victim in love's holy mass....
Your flesh that loves, and loving ever dies....
I could not love you more if you were dead.
V
Death is death; the little host that squirms,
The smell, the dark, the coffin clos'd, and I
So soft, so soft; no movement, and no breath;
No ears, no nose, no eyeballs; Death is Death;
The sepulchre, no sight, no sound, no cry,
And always; Death is Death; the worms! the worms