- Dante Gabriel
Rossetti at the Grave
- of Lizzie
Siddal
- by Ted Slade
Such sudden loss of love compounds insanity,
an absence of mind persuading me to error,
encouraging that random act of vanity,
to bury my poems with you in lieu of sorrow.
What use have you for all those mournful sonnets?
You who were once a woman fair and gay.
How will the worms appreciate my couplets?
What guard are they against your sure decay?
And so I stand here darkly as a phantom,
thinking of how your love was won and lost -
lighting your open grave with this pale lantern,
seeking to recover some of the cost.
To rob you yet again gives me no pleasure
but surely brings a little earthly treasure.
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