oh, weep for Adonais - he is dead!
wake, melancholy mother, wake and weep!
yet wherefore? quench within their burning bed
thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart keep
like his, a mute and uncomplaining sleep;
for he is gone, where all things wise and fair
descend - oh, dream not that the amorous deep
will yet restore him to the vital air;
death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair.