How do I love you then?
Till stone unfold his nature, and
Funereal rook his language,
Tongue dumb as bell unclappered
Lies in silent head.

How tell you hurt, my own?
Only as trees wind-anguished bend
And sigh their mournful message,
Or woman freshly widowed
Whispers to her dead.

How can it end, sweet Queen?
Only as leaf ends in the wind,
Blown to a new world's edge
For future's growth the food,
Rich as a dying word.