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2.

I will not ask where thou liest low,

Nor gaze upon the spot;

There flowers or weeds at will may grow,

So I behold them not:

It is enough for me to prove

That what I loved and long must love

Like common earth can rot;

To me there needs no stone to tell,

"Tis Nothing that I loved so well.

3.

Yet did I love thee to the last

As fervently as thou,

Who didst not change through all the past,

And canst not alter now.

The love where Death has set his seal,

Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,

Nor falsehood disavow:

And, what were worse, thou canst not see

Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.

4.

The better days of life were ours ;

The worst can be but mine:

The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,

Shall never more be thine.

The silence of that dreamless sleep

I envy now too much to weep;

Nor need I to repine

That all those charms have passed away;

I might have watched through long decay.

5.

The flower in ripened bloom unmatched

Must fall the earliest prey;

Though by no hand untimely snatched,

The leaves must drop away:

And yet it were a greater grief

To watch it withering, leaf by leaf,

Than see it plucked to-day;

Since earthly eye but ill can bear

To trace the change to foul from fair.

6.

I know not if I could have borne

To see thy beauties fade;

The night that followed such a morn

Had worn a deeper shade:

Thy day without a cloud hath past,

And thou wert lovely to the last;

Extinguished, not decayed;

As stars that shoot along the sky

Shine brightest as they fall from high.

7.

As once I wept, if I could weep

My tears might well be shed,

To think I was not near to keep
One vigil o'er thy bed;

To gaze, how fondly! on thy face,

To fold thee in a faint embrace,

Uphold thy drooping head;

And show that love, however vain,

Nor thou nor I can feel again.

8.

Yet how much less it were to gain,

Though thou hast left me free,

The loveliest things that still remain,

Than thus remember thee!

The all of thine that cannot die

Through dark and dread Eternity,

Returns again to me,

And more thy buried love endears

Than aught, except its living years.

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