LI.
A fearful thing that love and death may dwell
In the same world! She faded on—and I,
Blind to the last, there needed death to tell
My trusting soul that she could fade to die!
Yet, ere she parted, I had mark’d a change;
But it breathed hope—’twas beautiful, though strange:
Something of gladness in the melody
Of her low voice, and in her words a flight
Of airy thought—alas! too perilously bright!