At my headstone, kindly kneeling,

May I beg a votive tear?

Woman, with her pure appealing,

Is my angel at the bier.

Let me have but one such linger,

Praying Christ to help and save,

Let me have but one dear finger

Place a chaplet on my grave.

Though the soldier dies in dying,

The true lover never dies;

Upward, from his embers flying,

He transfigures in the skies.

Heaven is rare, but Love is rarer,

Whether it be blest or crost;

Heaven blooms fair, but Love blooms fairer,

But, O God, at what a cost!

Fare thee well, O Love of Woman!

Lip of Beauty, fare thee well!

Thy soft heart, divinely human,

Holds me by a magic spell.

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