The brightness of a burning thought awhile Battailing with the glooms of my dark will, Moonlike emerged, lit up unto itself, Upon the depths of an unfathom'd woe, Reflex of action, starting up at once, As men do from a vague and horrid dream, And throwing by all consciousness of self, In eager haste I shook him by the hand; Then flinging myself down upon my knees Even where the grass was warm where I had lain, I pray'd aloud to God that he would hold The hand of blessing over Lionel, And her whom he would make his wedded wife, Camilla! May their days be golden days, And their long life a dream of linked love, From which may rude Death never startle them, But grow upon them like a glorious vision Of unconceived and awful happiness, Solemn but splendid, full of shapes and sounds, Swallowing its precedent in victory. Let them so love that men and boys may say, Lo! how they love each other! till their love Shall ripen to a proverb unto all, Known when their faces are forgot in the land. And as for me, Camilla, as for me, Think not thy tears will make my name grow green,-- The dew of tears is an unwholesome dew. The course of Hope is dried,--the life o' the plant-- They will but sicken the sick plant more. Deem then I love thee but as brothers do, So shalt thou love me still as sisters do; Or if thou dream'st aught farther, dream but how I could have loved thee, had there been none else To love as lovers, loved again by thee.