Those we love truly never die Though year by year the sad memorial wreath, A ring and flowers, types of life and death, Are laid upon their graves. For death the pure life saves, And life all pure is love; and love can reach From heaven to earth, and nobler lessons teach Than those by mortals read. Well blest is he who has a dear one dead; A friend he has whose face will never change A dear communion that will not grow strange; The anchor of a love is death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLIE by ROBERT HERRICK MIDWINTER BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES BALLAD OF HECTOR IN HADES by EDWIN MUIR THE SNOW MAN by WALLACE STEVENS THE FAIREST HE by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR |