My lips to yours, advance at least to mine. My son, thy mother’s parting kiss receive, While yet thy mother has a kiss to give. I can no more, the creeping rind invades My closing lips, and hides my head in shades: Remove your hands; the bark shall soon suffice, Without their aid, to seal these dying eyes.’ She ceased at once to speak, and ceased to be, And all the nymph was lost within the tree: Yet latent life through her new branches reign’d, And long the plant a human heat retain’d.”