So much this chamber, dim with dying snows
Veneer and gilt touched by the sunken sun
And autumn’s tawny glimmer thrown upon
The window in whose archipelagoes
Of pallid stars unfolds the absent rose
Each petal drenching red your skeleton
Unanswered by the sky except that one
Fell earthward dark, your body did enclose
That you with pen triumphant poised in doubt
Upon an empty sheet to death devout
Drew out in slender script that life enwraps
Its music beating pure against the gloom
Eternal praise of art but on perhaps
The inside of the door against the tomb.
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