The Death of Love, by Madison Cawein

††So Love is dead, the Love we knew of old!
††And in the sorrow of our hearts' hushed halls
††A lute lies broken and a flower falls;
††Love's house stands empty and his hearth lies cold.
††Lone in dim places, where sweet vows were told,
††In walks grown desolate, by ruined walls
††Beauty decays; and on their pedestals
††Dreams crumble and th' immortal gods are mold.
††Music is slain or sleeps; one voice alone,
††One voice awakes, and like a wandering ghost
††Haunts all the echoing chambers of the Pastó
††The voice of Memory, that stills to stone
††The soul that hears; the mind, that, utterly lost,
††Before its beautiful presence stands aghast.