Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/177

 Yet can love not choose but remember, hearts but ache, Eyes but darken, only for one vain thought's poor sake, For the thought that by this hearth's now lonely side Two fast friends, on the day he died, Looked once more for his hand to take.

Let thy soul forgive them, and pardon heal the sin, Though their hearts be heavy to think what then had been, The delight that never while they live may be— Love's communion of speech with thee, Soul and speech with the soul therein.

O my friend, O brother, a glory veiled and marred! Never love made moan for a life more evil-starred. Was it envy, chance, or chance-compelling fate, Whence thy spirit was bruised so late, Bowed so heavily, bound so hard?