LIFE-IN-LOVE
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ot in thy body is thy life at allBut in this lady's lips and hands and eyes;Through these she yields the life that vivifiesWhat else were sorrow's servant and death's thrall.Look on thyself without her, and recallThe waste remembrance and forlorn surmiseThat lived but in a dead-drawn breath of sighsO'er vanished hours and hours eventual. Even so much life hath the poor tress of hairWhich, stored apart, is all love hath to showFor heart-beats and for fire-heats long ago;Even so much life endures unknown, even where,'Mid change the changeless night environeth,Lies all that golden hair undimmed in death.
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