I died for beauty but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
 
He questioned softly why I failed?
‘For beauty,’ I replied.
‘And I for truth,—the two are one;
We brethren are,’ he said.
 
And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.

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