Tell me your race, your name, <br />O Lady limned as dead, yet as when living fair! <br />That within this faded frame <br />An unfading beauty wear. <br />Were you ever known to fame, <br />Or, more wisely, chose to be <br />Lost in love's obscurity? <br />We may question, gaze, and guess, <br />You will never answer ``yes,'' <br />For your sweet lips are closed by Death's relentlessness. <br /> <br />Yes, you were chill before <br />Some thoughtful hand to us your loveliness bequeathed. <br />You already then no more <br />Moved, or spoke, or felt, or breathed, <br />But an eternal silence wore. <br />Dank and limp your ample hair, <br />And your eyelids kept the stare <br />Of a face that cannot speak; <br />And, where lived the rose's streak, <br />There only lingered then the lily in your cheek. <br /> <br />Was it your own strange prayer <br />That you, in death, should be in living garb arrayed, <br />And your aspect seem as fair, <br />Fanciful and undecayed, <br />As when life and love were there? <br />No! it was no idle whim: <br />Death was in love with you, and you in love with Him. <br />And when you, with tender dread, <br />All to Him surrenderëd, <br />He took care you should retain <br />All of life except its pain, <br />And with unabated charms <br />Lie fast asleep in your unsleeping lover's arms.<br /><br />Alfred Austin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/impromptu-7/
