Dead -- even he. They told me, and that day Somehow my dreams went wailing, lost in space, Finding the beggared earth a homeless place, When, as death's violence to that vital clay Slipped from my heart (as, heaven be thanked, it may), I saw his passing had but served to trace A subtler line in life's mysterious face: He is more friendly since he went away. Grief is the treasure of his own: but I Who only touched his garment's hem, draw near And find in him increasingly my part -- Fall into step, bespeak his company! Living, the nearest claim them: but the dear Great dead belong to any humble heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG by OLIVER GOLDSMITH HONEY DRIPPING FROM THE COMB by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY EDWIN MORRIS; OR, THE LAKE by ALFRED TENNYSON DRINKING SONG (4) by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE BENNINGTON by WILLIAM HENRY BABCOCK |