So like the soul’s own element,—so fair!
The features of a God lie veiled there!
And mariners that have been toiling far
Upon the deep, and lost the polar star,
Have visited that island, and have seen
That lover’s grave: and many there have been
That sat upon the grey and crumbling stone,
And started as they saw a skeleton
Amid the long sad moss, that fondly grew
Through the white wasted ribs: but never knew