Than helpless love or hopeless sympathy!—
For thou art filled
With visions now of soul’s supremer sphere,
Like thine but infinite in love, O tear!
Thou art too blurred and blinding now to let
Thine eye behold the beauty of the light
That glimmers through thy grief,—but thou wilt yet,
If pleaseth God, with faith-anointed sight
And love anew
Dissolve in joy and for the sepulchre