Erotica/Wert Cold and Chill

by Arthur Clark Kennedy

Wert Cold and Chill

Wert cold and chillIn thy death-trance lying,I'd pluck thee stillFrom the midmost dying,A cure for thine illWith my heart-blood buying.

Thy cheeks' pale ashesShould burn and glow,Through lifting lashesThy soul should showRedeemed from the cachésOf under-woe.

E'en death's endeavourWere vain to part,For I'd hold thee everAgainst my heart,Allaying its feverAnd passionate smart.