The final shadow that will close my eyes
will in its darkness take me from white day
and instantly untie the soul from lies
and the flattery of death, and find its way
and yet my soul won't leave its memory
of love there on the shore where it has burned
my flame can swim cold water and has learned
to lose respect for laws' severity
My soul, whom a God made his prison of,
my vens, which a liquid humour fed to fire,
my marrows, which have gloriously flamed,
will leave their body, never their desire:
they will be ash but ash in feeling framed;
they will be dust but will be dust in love
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