Page:Rosalind and Helen (Shelley).djvu/45

Rh And all things strong and bright and pure, And ever during, aye endure: Who knows, if one were buried there, But these things might our spirits make, Amid the all-surrounding air, Their own eternity partake?" Then 'twas a wild and playful saying At which I laughed, or seemed to laugh: They were his words: now heed my praying, And let them be my epitaph. Thy memory for a term may be My monument. Wilt remember me? I know thou wilt, and canst forgive Whilst in this erring world to live My soul disdained not, that I thought Its lying forms were worthy aught And much less thee.

O speak not so, But come to me and pour thy woe Into this heart, full though it be,