Canto LVI

Peace, come away: the song of woe

      Is after all an earthly song:

      Peace; come away: we do him wrong

To sing so wildly: let us go.

Come, let us go, your cheeks are pale,

      But half my life I leave behind;

      Methinks my friend is richly shrined,

But I shall pass; my work will fail.

Yet in these ears till hearing dies,

      One set slow bell will seem to toll

      The passing of the sweetest soul

That ever looked with human eyes.

I hear it now, and o'er and o'er,

      Eternal greetings to the dead;

      And ‘Ave, Ave, Ave,' said,

'Adieu, adieu,' for evermore!