I died for Beauty—but was scarce

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—Themself 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—