In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood,
   Amazed with sorrow. Down the morning one
   Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun
Rang out; and held; and died.... She thought the wood
Grew quieter. Wing, and leaf, and pool of light
   Forgot to dance. Dumb lay the unfalling stream;
   Life one eternal instant rose in dream
Clear out of time, poised on a golden height....

Till a swift terror broke the abrupt hour.
The gold waves purled amidst the green above her;
   And a bird sang. With one sharp-taken breath,
By sunlit branches and unshaken flower,
The immortal limbs flashed to the human lover,
   And the immortal eyes to look on death.

Rupert Brooke, 1910

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