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 Listen; I say the words I could not say Had we to rise and meet another day, But in the falling shades of Death, I may!

There will be no to-morrow; I shall keep Tristan for ever in my arms asleep. Not even dreams will share a rest so deep,

My face will be the last face thou shalt see. Thy spirit, entering on Eternity, Will pause to take an ultimate kiss from me,

Ah, come to me, since Death has given the right. I love thee so, I could have died to-night Without the poison's aid, from sheer delight,

Much may be done by those about to die, Much may be said by lips that say "Good-bye," On which the Last Great Silence soon must lie,

With Death to shelter me, I greatly dare, My lips seek things mine eyes have long found fair, This is thy mouth,—and this, thy falling hair,

Thy falling hair,—so soft upon my brow, Never a lover has been loved as thou! If this is Death, I have not lived till now!

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