If All Else Perished, And He Remained,

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same; And Linton's Is As Different As A Moonbeam From Lightning, Or Frost From Fire

No Coward Soul Is Mine, No Trembler In The World's Storm-troubled Sphere.

I Got The Sexton, Who Was Digging Linton's Grave, To Remove The Earth Off Her Coffin Lid, And I Opened It. I Thought, Once, I Would Have Stayed There, When I Saw Her Face Again - It Is Hers Yet - He Had Hard Work To Stir Me; But He Said It Would Change, If The Air Blew On It.

I Wish I Were A Girl Again, Half-savage And Hardy, And Free.

May You Not Rest, As Long As I Am Living. You Said I Killed You - Haunt Me, Then.