2. TOO LATE

By Matthew Arnold

Each on his own strict line we move,

And some find death ere they find love;

So far apart their lives are thrown

From the twin soul which halves their own.

And sometimes, by still harder fate,

The lovers meet, but meet too late.

— Thy heart is mine!— True, true! ah, true!

— Then, love, thy hand!— Ah no! adieu!