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Dante Gabriel Rossetti - Almost Over
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YOU say I should not think upon her now: 
But then I have stood beside her listening, 
And watched her rose—breathed lips when she would sing: 
And I can scarcely yet imagine how 
I ever should despise that stately brow 
And flowering breast that is so pure a thing. 
Alas for all the weary blood—running 
When from the heart love strives to tear a vow!
And yet perchance—even as you tell me—soon 
Her spirit of my spirit will leave hold, 
And, when I hear her tread, I shall not blush 
Doubly, for love and shame. But then the moon 
Assuredly will rise, and Sleep shall fold 
Her hair round me, and Death will whisper Hush!
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