One said: “Here is my hand to lean upon
As long as you may need it.” And one said:
“Believe me true to you till I am dead.”
And one, whose dainty way it was to fawn
About my face, with mellow fingers drawn
Most soothingly o'er brow and drooping head,
Sighed tremulously: “Till my breath is fled
Know I am faithful!”... Now, all these are gone
And many like to them — and yet I make
No bitter moan above their grassy graves —
Alas! they are not dead for me to take
Such sorry comfort!— but my heart behaves
Most graciously, since one who never spake
A vow is true to me for true love's sake.