The frost of death was on the pane

The frost of death was on the pane -
"Protect your flower" said he -
Like sailors fighting with a leak
We fought mortality -
Our passive flower we held to sea -
To mountain - to the sun.
Yet even on his scarlet shelf
To crawl - the frost begun -
We pried him back -
Ourselves we wedged
Himself, and her between -
But easy as a narrow snake
He forked his way along -
Till all her helpless beauty bent
And then our wrath begun
We hunted him to his ravine
We chased him to his den -
We hated death and hated life
And nowhere was to go
The[^a1] sea and continent there is
A larger - it is woe.

[^a1: The | Than]