“The flowers everywhere
Are withering, the stars dissolved,
Amalgamated in a glare,
Which last night were revolved
Discreetly round us…
The two of us…
Must hope that in new properties
We’ll find a uniform
To know each other truly by, or,
At least, that these will,
When we rise, be seen with dawn
As remnant yet part raimant still,
Like flags that linger on
The sky when kind and queen are gone.
(Epithalamion)”