I’d pay again the price I pay for this!
And, though for me no more the stars shall shine,
Or flowers around their odorous breath distil,
Or nightly revels on the moon-lit hill
“Awake me with their echoes—yet the sense
Of human love, and that I was adored
With warm and human energy, shall dispense
Fragrance immortal o’er me, when I’ve poured
The essence of my being out, and died—
The victim of immortal love and mortal pride!”