Explore "The Death of Love" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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 is empty and his hearth is 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 mould.
Music is slain or sleeps; one voice alone, / One voice awakes, and like a wandering ghost / Haunts all the echoing chambers of the Past -- / The voice of Memory, that stills to stone / The soul that hears; the mind that, utterly lost, / Before its beautiful presence stands aghast.