While yet these tears have power to flow <br />For hours for ever past away; <br />While yet these swelling sighs allow <br />My faltering voice to breathe a lay; <br />While yet my hand can touch the chords, <br />My tender lute, to wake thy tone; <br />While yet my mind no thought affords, <br />But one remembered dream alone, <br />I ask not death, whate'er my state: <br />But when my eyes can weep no more, <br />My voice is lost, my hand untrue. <br />And when my spirit's fire is o'er, <br />Nor can express the love it knew, <br />Come, Death, and cast thy shadows o'er my fate!<br /><br />Louise Labe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/while-yet-these-tears/
