That thou, being first of all these, thou alone

Shouldst have the grace to die not, but to live

And lose nor change one pulse of song, one tone

Of all that were thy lady's and thine own,

Thy lady's whom thou criedst on to forgive,

Thou, priest and sacrifice on the altar-stone

Where none may worship not of all that live,

Love's priestess, errant on dark ways diverse;

If this were grace indeed for Love to give,

If this indeed were blessing and no curse.

Love's priestess, mad with pain and joy of song,

Song's priestess, mad with joy and pain of love,

Name above all names that are lights above,

We have loved, praised, pitied, crowned and done thee wrong,

O thou past praise and pity; thou the sole

Utterly deathless, perfect only and whole

Immortal, body and soul.

For over all whom time hath overpast

The shadow of sleep inexorable is cast,

The implacable sweet shadow of perfect sleep

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