XV.
But graves are cells of truth and love,
And men may talk no treason there.
A corpse will wear no wedding-glove,
A ghost will make no sign in air.
But ghosts can pray? Well, let them kneel;
They, too, must loathe the love they feel.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
XVI.
Ah me! to sleep and yet to wake,