Here you will find the Poem Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XXIV of poet Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And, feeling round him, lo, upon the mould A pick and spade cast down by accident. And Adrian laughed when in those engines cold He guessed the furtherers of his heart's intent. And all night through he wrought with them in rage, As miners do who know the prize at hand. Blest Adrian! Now thy lips thou shalt engage In the full solace thy long love has planned. Her face is near thee. Speed thee on thy task. Her breast's fair purity is thine to kiss. She shall not now deny though thou shouldst ask Her whole soul's prize in ransom of thy bliss. Thrice happy Adrian! See, thy hands have slid Trembling on thy Natalia's coffin lid.
