If I had to face my grief For those I love who now are dead, Remembering a Stoic belief Or what some ancient Cynic said, From day to day I could not go As one who goes from dark to light, Nor could I know what now I know Of Shapes that keep away from sight. It was our lingerings to say All sorts of things we could not tell, Which made them sure they still might stay Forever safe from a farewell. |