Clarel/Part 4/Canto 31

31. Dirge
Stay, Death. Not mine the Christus-wand Wherewith to charge thee and command: I plead. Most gently hold the hand Of her thou leadest far away; Fear thou to let her naked feet Tread ashes--but let mosses sweet

Her footing tempt, where'er ye stray. Shun Orcus; win the moonlit land Belulled--the silent meadows lone, Where never any leaf is blown From lily-stem in Azrael's hand. There, till her love rejoin her lowly (Pensive, a shade, but all her own) On honey feed her, wild and holy; Or trance her with thy choicest charm. And if, ere yet the lover's free, Some added dusk thy rule decrec That shadow only let it be Thrown in the moon-Glade by the palm.