What shall I bring to lay upon thy bier
O Yesterday! thou day forever dead?
With what strange garlands shall I crown thy head,
Thou silent One? For rose and rue are near
Which thou thyself didst bring me; heart’s-ease clear
And dark in purple opulence that shed
Rare odors round; wormwood, and herbs that fed
My soul with bitterness—they all are here!
When to the banquet I was called by thee
Thou gavest me rags and royal robes to wear;
Honey and aloes mingled in the cup
Of costly wine that thou didst pour for me;
Thy throne, thy footstool, thou didst bid me share;
On crusts and heavenly manna bade me sup!