Love In Extremis

I care not what they say who hold We should speak but of life and joy; I have met death in one I love, Death lusting to destroy.

And I have fought him vein by vein, Loosened his cold and creeping clutch, Driven him from her--twice and thrice-- With might too much.

Yet with too little! for I know That she at last will lie there still. Then all my fire of love shall fail To thaw that chill;

For it will freeze light from her eyes, Pulse from her breast and from her soul Me, whom no opiate of peace Can e'er console.

None: ... till I follow her, in time, And find her, though all Dust deny! With that to be I'll front the day, And fronting die.