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
This is where the shift from idealisation to reality takes place. The moss has been slowly growing over their bodies, and now it has reached their lips, inhibiting their speech – the only semblance of life they had left. 
 
 The two individuals cannot control the inevitable growth of the moss, and they are shut silent, devoid of communication with one another. 
 Dickinson comes to the conclusion that eventually death will engulf everything, and, just like the growth of the moss, it is unavoidable.
I died for Beauty — but was scarce