WE wonder at, we praise your life, For crowning love with name of wife, Whose love was young in sunset-time, As in the blush of morning's prime. We cry: "Oh, what a miracle she!" And thus confess how small are we! Can rose be otherwise than rose? Can light be less than light? Can those Who love be less than love? So you To your angel spirit were but true. They dreamt she died? O, can it be, Since love alone's immortality, And love doth live through such as she? You live in death. 'Tis we are dead, In life. For you to love were wed. Your love was gold and ours dross. The sea alone can sigh our loss Of you. The morning stars alone Can sing your fame to years unflown. For all we say but tells anew How small are we; how great are you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY FOR AN ENEMY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET NOT ONE TO SPARE by ETHEL LYNN BEERS SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 12. AT THE DRAPER'S by THOMAS HARDY THE SOLSEQUIUM by ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE THE WOMAN AND THE ANGEL by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE ENOCH ARDEN by ALFRED TENNYSON HUDSON RIVER ANTHOLOGY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |