Sister Death

My sister Death! I pray thee come to me Of thy sweet charity, And be my nurse but for a little while; I will indeed lie still, And not detain thee long, when once is spread, Beneath the yew, my bed: I will not ask for lillies or for roses; But when the evening closes, Just take from any brook a single knot Of pale Forget-me-not, And lay them in my hand, until I wake, For his dear sake; (For should he ever pass and by me stand, He might understand ) Then heal the passion and the fever With one cool kiss, for ever. Digby Mackworth Dolben Pale gilded lilies and roses in the labdanum shadow of a yew tree, a sprig of forget-me-not, the dwindling memory of a genteel cologne, and the honeyed breathlessness of a kiss.