The speaker remembers a beloved with deep tenderness and almost religious awe. He describes her body as a sacred cell, an opal that shone softly in the dark, and he recalls touching her with reverential hands. Although his passion was overwhelming, she yielded gently and happily. What moves him most is not just physical union but the sight of her “clean brown body, beautiful and young” and the emotional peace he felt when she pressed her heart into his. The memory is so intense and pure that ordinary, “coarser” love now seems impossible. He would rather live like a ghost with the beautiful phantoms of his lonely mind than replace her with someone less sacred. The mood is tender, nostalgic, and quietly sorrowful, mixing sensuality with loss and idealization.
Memorial — Summary
Your body was a sacred cell always, A jewel that grew dull in garish light, An opal which beneath my wondering gaze Gleamed rarely, softly throbbing in the night. I touched your flesh with reverential hands, For you were sweet and timid like a flower That blossoms out of barren tropic sands, Shedding its perfume in one golden hour. You yielded to my touch with gentle grace, And though my passion was a mighty wave That buried you beneath its strong embrace, You were yet happy in the moment’s grave. Still more than passion consummate to me, More than the nuptials immemorial sung, Was the warm thrill that melted me to see Your clean brown body, beautiful and young; The joy in your maturity at length, The peace that filled my soul like cooling wine, When you responded to my tender strength, And pressed your heart exulting into mine. How shall I with such memories of you In coarser forms of love fruition find? No, I would rather like a ghost pursue The fairy phantoms of my lonely mind.