CXVII An Epitaph Upon Husband and Wife, Who Died and Were Buried Together
To these, whom death again did wed,
This grave’s their second marriage-bed;
For though the hand of Fate could force
’Twixt soul and body a divorce,
It could not sunder man and wife, 5
’Cause they both lived but one life.
Peace, good reader, do not weep;
Peace, the lovers are asleep:
They (sweet turtles) folded lie
In the last knot that love could tie. 10
And though they lie as they were dead,
Their pillow stone, their sheets of lead;
(Pillow hard, and sheets not warm)
Love made the bed, they’ll take no harm.
Let them sleep, let them sleep on, 15
Till this stormy night be gone,
And the eternal morrow dawn;
Then the curtains will be drawn,
And they wake into that light,
Whose day shall never die in night. 20
Richard Crashaw.