Is love a fancy or a feeling? No. It is immortal as immaculate truth. It is not a blossom shed as soon as youth drops from the stem of life, for it will grow in barren regions where no waters flow nor ray of promise cheats the pensive gloom.
Sonnet VII by Hartley Coleridge

Pathetic? To die for love? How can you say so? What could be more glorious?
Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

A beautiful sadness that brings about a tear of hope or belief in true love, even though it’s no longer whole but a mere faint trace of its being.