Thou wert beloved, and she had loved,
Till death alone the whole could tell,
Death every shade of doubt removed,
And steeped the star in its cold well.
On some fond breast the parting soul
Relies,—earth has no more to give;
Who wholly loves has known the whole,
The wholly loved doth truly live.
But some, sad outcasts from this prize,
Wither down to a lonely grave,