High swelled the chanted hymn,
Low on the marble swept the velvet pall,
I bent above, and my eyes grew dim,
My sad heart saw it all--
She loved me, loved me though she wedded him.

And then shot through my soul
A thrill of fierce delight, to think that he
Must yield her form, his all, to Death's control,
The while her love for me
Would live, when sun and stars had ceased to roll.

But no, on the white brow,
Graved in its marble, was deep calm impressed,
Saying that peace had come to her through woe;
Saying, she had found rest
At last, and I, I must not love her now.

It may be in Heaven's grace,
Beneath the shade of some immortal palm,
That God will let me see her angel face;
Then wild, wild heart be calm,
Wipe out that old love, every sorrowful trace.

I know that if it be,
We two should meet again in Paradise,
'Twould trouble her pure soul if she should see
The old grief in my eyes;
'Twould grieve her dear heart through eternity.