Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/275

 229. Her Passing

The beauty and the life Of life's and beauty's fairest paragon —O tears! O grief!—hung at a feeble thread To which pale Atropos had set her knife; The soul with many a groan Had left each outward part, And now did take his last leave of the heart: Naught else did want, save death, ev'n to be dead; When the afflicted band about her bed, Seeing so fair him come in lips, cheeks, eyes, Cried, '''Ah! and can Death enter Paradise?'  230. Inexorable''

My thoughts hold mortal strife; I do detest my life, And with lamenting cries Peace to my soul to bring Oft call that prince which here doth monarchise: —But he, grim-grinning King, Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise. Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.

231. Change should breed Change

New doth the sun appear, The mountains' snows decay, Crown'd with frail flowers forth comes the baby year. My soul, time posts away;