IT is not the tear at this moment shed, When the cold turf has just been laid o'er him, That can tell how beloved was the friend that's fled, Or how deep in our hearts we deplore him. 'T is the tear, through many a long day wept, 'T is life's whole path o'ershaded; 'T is the one remembrance, fondly kept, When all lighter griefs have faded. Thus his memory, like some holy light, Kept alive in our hearts, will improve them, For worth shall look fairer and truth more bright, When we think how he lived but to love them. And, as fresher flowers the sod perfume Where buried saints are lying, So our hearts shall borrow a sweetening bloom From the image he left there in dying! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEARING LEAVES AGAIN by DAVID IGNATOW MOTHER O' MINE by RUDYARD KIPLING PORTRAIT D'UNE FEMME by EZRA POUND SONNET: TO L.T. IN FLORENCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A FINE DAY ON LOUGH SWILLY by WILLIAM ALEXANDER (1824-1911) ELEGIAC SONNET TO A MOPSTICK by WILLIAM BECKFORD |