Canto LVIII

n those sad words I took farewell:    Like echoes in sepulchral halls,    As drop by drop the water falls In vaults and catacombs, they fell;

And, falling, idly broke the peace    Of hearts that beat from day to day,    Half-conscious of their dying clay, And those cold crypts where they shall cease.

The high Muse answer'd: "Wherefore grieve    Thy brethren with a fruitless tear?    Abide a little longer here, And thou shalt take a nobler leave."

-Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam A. H. H., Canto LVIII