No matter what the penalty to come.
Oh! bitterness, that we ourselves did write
These pages with heart's blood, yet cannot feel
To-day one little tremor o'er us steal
Save of regret for so much past delight!
The cup is spilt of which we two partook.
For this last time, oh! once beloved, stay
Close here beside me, while my drying pen
Has still the strength to write our last Amen.
'Tis written ... there is nothing left to say,