Sweet love, if death’s black net my mind shall cover
And drape with doubly twining nets my heart,
Be not the one to weep and cry, dear lover
For never shall I from your essence, part.
When you shall to your chambered bed, retire,
I shall bear my embalming pinions
Above your crest, so that when you shall tire,
You’ll safely roam in dream’s dominions.
When you shall wake before the morning’s charms,
And bear upon your brain, renewéd thought,
I shall enwrap you with my tender arms,
Although you’ll feel them as the air and not
As mortal flesh, but some unearthly ether,
For, love, in life and death we’ll stay together.
© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov
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