The Ghost of the Rose
Open your eyelids now closed
That brush on a maidens dream;
I am the ghost of the rose
That you wore at the ball last night.
You plucked me still silvered with pearls
Sprinkled like tears from the hose,
And throughout the glittering scene
Paraded all night was I seen.
O you who have caused my death
Unable to chase it away
Throughout the night, my ghost of a rose
Will come to dance by your bed.
But have no fear, I shall claim
No mass nor De Profundis;
This faint perfume is my soul
And from paradise do I come.
My destiny may serve for envy;
For no better death could one have
Than thus to have given ones life.
For, I have your breast as my tomb
And there on the headstone where I repose
A poet has left me a kiss
And written: “Here lies a rose
Of which, kings are inclined to be jealous”.