_Caput Tuum Ut Carmelus_

I watch the arch of her head, As she turns away from me.... I would I were with the dead, Drowned with the dead at sea, All the waves rocking over me!

As St Peter turned and fled From the Lord, because of sin, I look on that lovely head; And its majesty doth win Grief in my heart as for sin.

Oh, what can Death have to do With a curve that is drawn so fine, With a curve that is drawn as true As the mountain’s crescent line?... Let me be hid where the dust falls fine!