While three men hold together, the kingdoms are less by three.

Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives; And marriage and death and division Make barren our lives.

From too much love of living From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.

But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.