I.
I loved-alas! our life is love;
But when we cease to breathe and move
I do suppose love ceases too.
I thought, but not as now I do,
Keen thoughts and bright of linked lore,
Of all that men had thought before.
And all that Nature shows, and more.

II.
And still I love and still I think,
But strangely, for my heart can drink
The dregs of such despair, and live,
And love;...
And if I think, my thoughts come fast,
I mix the present with the past,
And each seems uglier than the last.

III.
Sometimes I see before me flee 15
A silver spirit-s form, like thee,
O Leonora, and I sit
...still watching it,
Till by the grated casement-s ledge
It fades, with such a sigh, as sedge
Breathes o-er the breezy streamlet-s edge.