1898 · CLOSE READING
Jezebel
Jezebel (1898), PDF p. 21
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JEZEBEL
17
EPILOGUE.
TO die amid the blossoms of the frost
On far fair heights ; to sleep the quiet sleep
Of dead men underneath the snowy steep
Of many mountains ; ever to have lost
These cares and these distrusts ; to lie alone,
Watched by the distant eagles drowsy wing,
Stars and grey summits, and the winds that sing
Slow dirges in eternal monotone.
Such is my souls desire, being weary of
This vain eternity of sleepless dreams
That is my life ; withal there still may be
In other worlds, the hope of other love
Than this that floods my veins with poisonous
streams,
And wastes with wan desire the soul of me.
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