Reverberates throughout eternity.
I did not rise and go, but kept my place.
Is not my love as great as was their love?
And is not she as beautiful, as cold,
As hopelessly indifferent and cold,
As ever Beatrice and Laura were?
And so I also spoke about my love,
Then we were silent sitting side by side.
Upon that rustic bench in Central Park,
Along a lonesome by-path in the park.