Ah wretched We, Poets of Earth! but Thou Wert Living the same Poet which thou'rt Now,...
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Thou wert the morning star among the living
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Tell them dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then beauty is its own excuse for being: Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose! I never sought to ask, I never knew: But, in my simple ignorance suppose The selfsame power that brought me there brought you.
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I did not know that thou wert dead before; I did not feel the grief I did sustain;...
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Tell them dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,Then beauty is its own excuse for beingWhy thou wert there, O rival of the roseI never sought to ask, I never knewBut, in my simple ignorance supposeThe selfsame power that brought me there brought you.
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O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou couldst not die more honorable.
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