Classic Poem

I have seen you, O king of the dead,
More beautiful than sunlight.

Your kiss is like quicksilver;
But I turned my face aside
Lest you should touch my lips.

In the field with the flowers
You stood darkly.

My knees trembled, and I knew
That no other joy would be like this.

But the warm field, and the sunlight,
And the few years of my girlhood,
Came before me, and I cried,
Not yet!
Not yet, O dark lover!

You were patient.
— I know you will come again.

I have seen you, O king of the dead,
More beautiful than sunlight.