A MONOLOGUE.
Reading edition
Has Love come? Ah, too late! Already Death stands o'er me With hungry eyes that bore me— O cruel fate, That after all life's years Of sacrifice and tears, 'Tis Death, not Love, that wins. But, stay! This message bear, Ere yet Death's work begins: "In other realms earth's losses Will change from saddening crosses To love-crowned joy, Where Death shall have no mission, But Love his sweet fruition Without alloy."