Shall we, while the night encloses
And extinguishes the roses,
Argue that the color there
Is unconquerably fair,
Fixed past mutability
In the ever-seeing eye?
Shall we, when assertive bone
Predicates the skeleton,
Arguing beneath the skin
That its covering grows thin,
Claim our younger counterpart
From the album of the heart?
Shall we, when the petal lingers
For a moment on our fingers,
But the tree expects the shape
Of a narrower landscape,
Argue that its winter be
Nothing in our memory?
Let the diamond even fail
From its province as a jewel,
Let the sun constrict and die
In a transitory sky,
And the constellations dim
At the Magellanic rim.
Shall we, when the night requires
Our affections and desires,
Argue that our kisses last
Till the blind eclipse is past,
And on passion’s self intent
Know no change of element?
Darling, while the roses fade
To impenetrable shade,
Shall we argue they are there
Bright in the original air,
Fixed beyond all power to go
By our having seen them so?
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