It is, moreover, close to truth--there are hundreds of men who live quietly in love of that kind, and die in its embrace.
In _Cristina_ the love is just as spiritual, but the motive of the poem is not one, as in _Evelyn Hope_, but two.

The woman is not dead, and she has missed her chance.

But the lover has not.

He has seen her and in a moment loved her.

She also looked on him and felt her soul matched by his as they "rushed together." But the world carried her away and she lost the fulness of life.