And you as well must die, beloved dust
And all your beauty stand you in no stead;
This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head
This body of flame and steel, before the gust
Of Death, or under his autumnal frost
Shall be as any leaf, be no less dead
Than the first leaf that fell,--this wonder fled
Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost
Nor shall my love avail you in your hour
In spite of all my love, you will arise
Upon that day and wander down the air
Obscurely as the unattended flower
It mattering not how beautiful you were
Or how beloved above all else that dies