As to some lovely temple, tenantless <br />Long since, that once was sweet with shivering brass, <br />Knowing well its altars ruined and the grass <br />Grown up between the stones, yet from excess <br />Of grief hard driven, or great loneliness, <br />The worshiper returns, and those who pass <br />Marvel him crying on a name that was,— <br />So is it now with me in my distress. <br />Your body was a temple to Delight; <br />Cold are its ashes whence the breath is fled, <br />Yet here one time your spirit was wont to move; <br />Here might I hope to find you day or night, <br />And here I come to look for you, my love, <br />Even now, foolishly, knowing you are dead.<br /><br />Edna St. Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnets-11-as-to-some-lovely-temple-tenantless/
