XXVA ROUNDEL
O death, who hand in hand with Love
And Fate, through life's ways wandereth,
Shadowing with thy dark wings the light thereof,
O Death,
And Fate, through life's ways wandereth,
Shadowing with thy dark wings the light thereof,
O Death,
Thou, of whose form man vaguely dreameth,
Wreath'd with white asphodel above,
Yet whose veil'd face a shadow seemeth;
Wreath'd with white asphodel above,
Yet whose veil'd face a shadow seemeth;
When we meet and thou sayest: Enough!
Shall I find gentle thy strange breath?
Tell me, is thy touch sweet or rough,
O Death?
Shall I find gentle thy strange breath?
Tell me, is thy touch sweet or rough,
O Death?