Liv

The shadow of uncertain things And all unearthly whisperings,-- That premonitions death and blight,-- Leans from the sepulchre of night; And on the Earth fall shadowings; And prophecies of near decay; But, lovelier than a dead delight, The starlit skies of glittering gray. Still shall the Season claim and keep Her wild-girl beauty; doubly deep The purport of her dreams shall rise Out of her heart into her eyes, Till very dreaming makes her weep; And death, with pale, pure lips and arms, Shall touch her from the frosty skies, Making a memory of her charms.