this is a poem which I wrote, inspired  by John Keats's "Ode to a Grecian Urn"

Immortal Ode

Stretched beneath a virgin's bower
Relishing the summer hour
Lies the Lady Dellamorte
Resting by her paramour

A mourning dove proclaims his glory
From a lofty arbor story
And Aether pure pervades this realm
Of purple heath and restless elm

In a hamet far away
The sounds of distant people play
But here there is no noise as rude
And happiness is solitude

The lovers draw eachother close
Reclining as in sweet repose
While Lady's lovely lily face
turns sanguine with a warm embrace

But soft!  The liege procures a blade
Which ceremoniously is laid
upon his lady's ivory neck
And pressed to seal impending death

The crimson blood of life pours forth
While gently he reomoves his sword,
Impales himself without a howl
And turns it in his dying bowels

Now all is silent, save the breeze
Which dances round the rustling leaves
And lilacs sigh at what has pasr
For love's defied, yet death will last