I have been witness of a strange grimmes All fear surpassing past all supposing Sweeter than nocturnes of the wild nightingale Or than love's nectar after life's gall.
Sweeter than odors of living leaves, Sweeter than odors of dying loves. Sweeter than death and dreams hereafter To one in the dark of life and its laughter. On the sweet murder after long guard Unto the martyr smiling in dark;
To me was that smile, faint as a wan, worn myth, Faint and exceeding small, on a boy's dying mouth.