The white body of my Beloved
Is a stone on which is inscribed
All dithyrhambs psalms and epics
Shaped of the winged and holy words
Whether of holy Sion or of Helicon
Inspired It is enduring marble
Carved in my heart and marshalls
Like bees to gather where it will
My errant senses visiting flowers
And all bright sources of the Divine
Nectar dropping beneath the stars
All blooms are holy and I seek
Dew everywhere that the Muse delights
In knowing that the Divine Form
Is indestructible event when Death
Scatters its shriveling petals on the bank
And the black earth absorbs its own
White marble gleams in my heart
While the quick cells decay
Neither Lethe nor Styx nor Acheron
Nor the River of Fire in the mouths of men
Ever will melt the white-flamed frost
Of my tears and the tears of my Beloved
Or the vine-purple song of our mouths
The muses are always dancing and the air
Each one of them breaths is itself
Brief Memory made divine and immortal
On marble they write in our hearts for ever
Though we sleep for ever dumb beneath marble.