And over his pale palsy breathing breath
His eye is sunk upon her—“Thou must leave
The worm to waste for love of thee, and grieve
Without thee, as I may not.—Thou must go,
My sweet betrothed, with me—but not below,
Where there is darkness, dream, and solitude,
But where is light, and life, and one to brood
Above thee till thou wakest.—Ha? I fear
Thou wilt not wake for ever, sleeping here,
Where there are none but winds to visit thee,