And yet Lorenzo guides my steps to-night
Unto my love as truly as in life.
Oh wonderful and strange that men should die
And, being buried, still should talk with us!
When I am free, and future ages come
To stand amazed before the girl I loved,
Then I will speak with them, say thus and thus,
And, though departed, never shall be dead.
For this I'll paint her portrait till 'tis done,
Singing, like Raphael, from gray dawn to dusk,