Sonnet Xi:

If I should perish e'er I pen this line, And take my place with the forgotten dead, I know my Love would bow her starry head, And through her fingers strain the bitter brine: But would her grief become a torch to shine Before her eyes, and light the way I led? Would my lone grave a solemn radiance shed, And thither only all her hopes incline? Should I poised high on heaven's far outer wall, Watching through lonely days, impatiently, My Love's appearance, her pale features see Hunting for mine, with anxious eyes, midst all The thronging souls? And would she rush and fall Here on my heart, with 'Love, I seek for thee'?