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...A COUNTRY BURIAL by EMILY DICKINSON THE MOURNING-GARMENT: THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE'S SONG by ROBERT GREENE TO THE BOY by ELIZABETH CLEMENTINE DODGE KINNEY ECHO by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IN THE GOLD ROOM by OSCAR WILDE EPIGRAM: 18. THE ENEMY OF LIFE by THOMAS WYATT POPULAR BALLAD: NEVER FORGET YOUR PARENTS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |