Tennyson

HOW beautiful to live as thou didst live! How beautiful to die as thou didst die,— In moonlight of the night, without a sigh, At rest in all the best that love could give! How excellent to bear into old age The poet’s ardor and the heart of youth,— To keep to the last sleep the vow of truth, And leave to lands that grieve a glowing page! How glorious to feel the spirit’s power Unbroken by the near approach of death, To breathe blest prophecies with failing breath, Soul-bound to beauty in that latest hour! How sweet to greet, in final kinship owned, The master-spirit to thy dreams so dear,— At last from his immortal lips to hear The dirge for Imogen, and thee, intoned! How beautiful to live as thou didst live! How beautiful to die as thou didst die,— In moonlight of the night, without a sigh, At rest in all the best that love could give!