I love this film! This takes place about a week after the sinking. The poem 'Lament' is by I. Holt.

He is gone with his blue eyes,

Whom I love most,--

Gone among the cliffs and fog

On a far coast,--

He who scatters wit and pride

From his keen tongue,

He who finds himself so deep

And is so young;--

He whose joy is in sweet words

And kindliness,--

"Make each day count," Jack had said. Rose vowed she would. She did not and could not understand why Jack was taken from her, but she made a promise to never let go. At first she could not understand his words. Never let go of what? Was there a deeper meaning? "Yes, there must be," she thought. "Never let go of his memory," she decided, "And do the things I want, whatever that may be. I'll be an actress. Ride a horse bareback. Fly in one of those Wright Brothers airplanes. Even spit like a man! Get married and have children. And name one of them--" she wanted to say "Jack", but the name still brought pain to her heart. She thought back to just a week ago…

Whom old men love, and little boys

No whit the less. . . .

Rooms are silent that were glad

Seven days ago.

I can feel across my heart

The great tides flow.

She ran with Jack from Lovejoy, her fiancé's "lapdog" as she liked to think of him, down to third class and through a long corridor. A sharp turn--he found a door, and they went inside as fast as the could. Down to the boiler rooms, the sweaty men toiled and slaved in front of the furnaces, shovelling heaps of coal black as night into the fire. The colour of Rose's wild hair whipping around her face as she ran, her hand entwined his. He found a door and dragged her through it. The had found an Aladdin's Cave of first class treasures. She seemed unfazed by it. But then she spied the car out of the corner of her eye. Not yet eighteen, she had the sort of playful idea she would have had as a child. Jack was too busy marvelling at the glorious car. Rose cleared her throat. Jack turned to her. He smiled. "Catches on quickly," she thought. Rose held out her delicate hand as she was taught from a young age and in proper etiquette of the day. He took it and led her into the car.

Jack sat in the front seat and jovially honked the horn. "Where to, miss?" said Jack in a refined way that Rose had heard many times before from her mother Ruth's own driver. "Rose leaned in and whispered "To the stars," in Jacks ear. She pulled him through the glass separating them, man and woman, class and distinction. Jack held her. "Are you nervous?" he asked. She searched his blue eyes so kind. "No," was Rose's whispered reply. She kissed Jack's fingers--her artist's fingers. "Put your hands on me, Jack,", and he complied. He put his hand on her breast. Then he kissed her. Soon the car was steamy and in a fit of passion Rose pressed her palm against the back window of the car. She surrendered to him.

Love, the blind importunate,

Craves touch and sight;

Briefly parting, feels and fears

Eternal night.

Jack laid on top of Rose, both warm and content. By now Jack was cold and trembling--even though both were underneath a blanket--and Rose told him so. They, after all, in the very bottom of the ship: the only thing between them and the water was steel. She loved him and he loved her. That was all that mattered now. Not class, not money, not social standing, nothing but love. Rose pressed his head to her chest. They both stayed like that for a while. It was a moment Rose kept with her until the end.

Fear is sweeping on the wind

Like acrid foam.

I have said farewell to peace

Till he comes home.

"But will I really be able to do all those things?" thought Rose. "I made a promise. I have to. For Jack…make each day count," Jack's words reverberated in her head and echoed back and forth again. She would see him again, she knew it. No matter how scared she was or how much she missed him, she would keep her promise to never let go and to never give up.