We loved with a love that was more than love.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, went envying her and me.
In the sepulchre there by the sea – in her tomb by the side of the sea.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love of those who were older than we – of many far wiser than we – and neither the angels in Heaven above nor the demons down under the sea can ever dissever my soul from the soul.
