Where cast a star too far from you to I?
The heavens, though in eternal rest, could not
Outlast the heart that called beyond the sky,
For spirits fade though love have never I forgot.
Yet may this tragic love, through hallowed night,
Be imaginative, as it is kind,
And guide us as shepherds to northern light
For, of the heart, what greater things to find?
Wind, if known of life, to us, may now bring
The chaos, known of love, though where it starts
Is of the snake of lore—deceitful stings—
Which is the potion to yet fall apart.
Tis not the greatest pain life so may send:
Mind and soul, but of love and of the end.

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