Alone! What a world of anguish lies
In that one short word! what tears and sighs!
Ah, dull werefhis selfish heart and cold
Could pass unmoved by this hallow'd mould,
Nor weep for her to whom death's deep rest
Seem'd sweeter than life by love unblest!
Who wert thou, upon whose nameless tomb
Are inscribed such words of grief and gloom?
Didst die consum'd by the fire of youth,
Deceived, alas! in thy dreams of truth?
Wert thou a poet, whose living lyre
Made deathless in song a vain desire?
Peace! Seek not aside to draw the veil
Whose mystery shrouds that piercing wail,
Nor deem the pity in thee it wakes
Be greater than His who gives and takes:
Thy love to His is a grain of sand.
Go thou, and leave her in God's good hand.
