D. H. Lawrence

SURELY you’ve trodden straight

To the very door!

Surely you took your fate

Faultlessly. Now ’tis too late

To say more.

It is evident you were right—

That man has a course to go,

A voyage to sail beyond the charted seas.

So you have passed from sight,

And our sighings blow

Back from that straight horizon which ends all one sees.

Now, like a vessel in port,

You unlade your riches into death,

And glad are the watchful dead to receive you there.

Let the dead sort

Your cargo; breath from breath

Let them disencumber your bounty, let them all share.

I imagine dead hands are brighter,

Their fingers in sunset shine

With jewels of passion once broken through you as a prism.

Dead breasts are whiter

For your wrath; and yes, I opine

They anoint their brows with your blood, as a perfect chrism.

It is evident you were right—

There are bounds to break,

Sumptuous passage from sight,

For you, and sighs down the white

Path of your wake.

Now to the dead you’ve given

Your last allegiance.

But woe unto us who are driven

After you, hostile to heaven

And its hateful legions.