Not in thy body is thy life at all, But in this lady`s lips and hands and eyes; Through these she yields thee life that vivifies What else were sorrow`s servant and death`s thrall. Look on thyself without her, and recall The waste remembrance and forlorn surmise That lived but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs O`er vanished hours and hours eventual. Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair Which, stored apart, is all love hath to show For heart-beats and for fire-heats long ago; Even so much life endures unknown, even where, `Mid change the changeless night environeth, Lies all that golden hair undimmed in death.SourceThe script ran 0.002 seconds.
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