The Youth and the Statue

'O! Marble statue, a stone for your heart,
Upon your shoulder I weep for my love-
Long departed into the winding dunes
The fumes, the screens, of dreams
Long departed.

Sweet alabastor, with skin so fair
Do you not sometimes too, despair
in this world so harsh?

O, but perfection has bound you in her chains
the pains, that you will never know
a show, I must be to you.'

A young man leans upon a maiden,
and stares up to her gentle face
that Beauty and Virtue had laden
With all their gifted grace
He sighs, he moans and he cries
His suffering and his hurt
he unburdens to this stranger
marble and stone had girt.

The afternoon so passes
and evening quiets to night
and so does the weeping stranger
contemplating his plight.
The evening star sweeps in, her entrance
dragging her starry gown
and pinned night's cloak to his shoulders
to whom lady Luna's bound.

Fast asleep, under her feet,
the youth is peaceful in rest.
Unknown to him, those eyes above
were full with  tears unshed

Magic glitters, those cold lips speak!
And tragic words she utter:
'Dear, dear youth, I wish you'd see
The loves that live beyond hers.'

A cold white finger, bends
stiffly down, to carress that warm flushed cheek.
The magic fades, and dawn arrives
to disturb the fair youth's sleep.

He awakes slowly, feeling still
the dampness of the dew
And in his palmed, cupped the most curious thing
A tear shaped, stone made jewel

And the stone maiden ever,
In her stiff repose.