The final shadow that will close my eyes will in its darkness take me from white day and instantly untie the soul from lies and flattery of d**h, and find its way, and yet my soul won't leave its memory of love there on the shore where it has burned: my flame can swim cold water and has learned to lose respect for laws' severity. My soul, whom a God made his prison of, my veins, which a liquid humor fed to fire, my marrows, which have gloriously flamed, will leave their body, never their desire; they will be ash but ash in feeling framed; they will be dust but will be dust in love.