Ebony and Crystal/Sepulchre

by Clark Ashton Smith

For works with similar titles, see Sepulchre.

SEPULTURE

Deep in my heart, as in the hollow stoneAnd silence of some olden sepulchre,Thy silver beauty lies, and shall not stir—Forgotten, incorruptible, alone:Though altars darken, and a wind be blownFrom starless seas on beacon-fires that were—Within thy tomb, with oils of balm and myrrh,Forever burn the onyx lamps unknown.

And though the bleak, Novembral gardens yieldRose-dust and ivy-leaf, nor any flow'rBe found through vermeil forest or wan field—Still, still the asphodel and lotos lieAround thy bed, and hour by silent hour,Exhale immortal fragrance like a sigh.