Oh, love that was loyal, losing, winning,
That time and change had no power to quell,
That once could even dispense with sinning,
And that possession could not dispel!
Your day is done, and your star's declining,
The hero was but a brainless churl
Who ever dreamed that without repining
His whole life long he could love one girl!
And yet, I feel there is something wanting.
The knowledge that love is sure to die