And still the aster greets us, as we pass, With her faint smile,—among the withered grass. - Sarah Helen Whitman

Tell him I lingered alone on the shore,
Where we parted, in sorrow, to meet nevermore;
The night-wind blew cold on my desolate heart
But colder those wild words of doom,—“Ye must part.”

Star of resplendent front! Thy glorious eye
Shines on me still from out yon clouded sky.

The summer skies are darkly blue, The days are still and bright,
And Evening trails her robes of gold Through the dim halls of Night.