Ille Terra Lamentum

The consummate scent of Earth's due decay Subdues gently the fervor of Death's perennial Parade, whose incumbent silences the withering leaves Do so barely correct, by singing tremulous or crying to the choral winds. But, as with an inspirited indifference, that incensed breeze yet swept The consummate scent of Earth s due decay Far from that secret tome whence mortal moments may, As with grave strength from deepest wells of regret, Be still distilled into that which, -despite bare Oblivion's effortless sway- Thus vivifies such frailty as whereby The consummate scent of Earth's due decay Has ever it's beauty in sanctity kept. And does Death then yet impress a violence but so fair, As with the mellowing maple leaf, or the ripening pear? And who would prevent them that Death should repay? Hence, the consummate scent of Earth's due decay.