O Death, when thou shalt come to me Out of thy dark, where she is now, Let no faint perfume cling to thee Of withered roses on thy brow. Come not, O Death, with hollow tone, And soundless step, and clammy hand - Lo, I am now no less alone Than in thy desolate doubtful land; But with that sweet and subtle scent That ever clung about her (such As with all things she brushed was blent); And with her quick and tender touch. With the dim gold that lit her hair, Crown thyself, Death; let fall thy tread So light that I may dream her there, And turn upon my dying bed. And through my chilling veins shall flame My love, as though beneath her breath; And in her voice but call my name, And I will follow thee, O Death.
- by Henry Cuyler Bunner (1855 - 1896), "Strong as Death", from the magazine The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 50, Issue 297, pp. 50-1, first published 1883 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2004-05-07
Line count: 20
Word count: 142