And the false Future crumbled fast away.
Aye, she was happy! God be thanked for this,
That she was happy!—happier than she knew,
Had even the hope that cheated her been true;
For from her face there beamed such wondrous bliss,
As cannot find fulfilment here, and dies.”
Nearer the end of the same poem, he writes:—
“With cold and changeless face beside her grave
I stood, and coldly heard the shuddering sound
Of coffin-echoes, smothered underground.”