The lesser griefs that may be said, That breathe a thousand tender vows, Are but as servants in a house Where lies the master newly dead; Who speak their feeling as it is, And weep the fulness from the mind. 'It will be hard,' they say, 'to find Another service such as this.' My lighter moods are like to these, That out of words a comfort win; But there are other griefs within, And tears that at their fountain freeze; For by the hearth the children sit Cold in that atmosphere of death, And scarce endure to draw the breath, Or like to noiseless phantoms flit; But open converse is there none, So much the vital spirits sink To see the vacant chair, and think, 'How good! now kind! and he is gone.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GEIST'S GRAVE by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE EVENING WIND by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 4 by THOMAS CAMPION ROBIN REDBREAST by GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE TO ONE IN BEDLAM by ERNEST CHRISTOPHER DOWSON CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR by ROSSITER WORTHINGTON RAYMOND FOR A DEAD LADY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |