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deathless death—in memory of richard watson ⁠gilder

Table of Contents

For other versions of this work, see Deathless Death.

DEATHLESS DEATH

Table of Contents

IN MEMORY OF RICHARD WATSON GILDER

We who have seen the seed fall without sound

Into the lifeless ground,

Through wintry days are tempted to forget

How Spring will come with the first violet

In her dark hair,

Fresh and more fair

Than we remembered her, a glad surprise

In the veiled azure of her shadowy eyes.

Fear doth the heart deceive,

And still we grieve

Where we should lift the voice

In triumph, and rejoice

Amid our sorrow,

Because of what the past

Has given that is beauteous and shall last—

A heritage of blessing for the morrow.

Lo, in what perfect trust

Nature confides her darlings to the dust!

The rose, the crocus, the narcissus sweet,

She lays to rest, undoubting, at her feet

Who from the meadows bright

Was snatched away to rule in the sad light

Of Hades, and to learn

Its lessons stern.

For Nature's faith is deep

That, waking from the dark and dreamless sleep,

Her flowers toward the sun shall wistful yearn,

And in the fragrant breast of Proserpine return.

Ah, lover true of men,

Forgive, forgive us, then,

If choked by tears we falter in our praise,

Remembering that we no more again

Shall hold glad converse with thy spirit brave,

Nor from thy lips hear words that lift and save,

Through all the lengthening number of our days!

By the great Silence thou art set apart

From all the restless travail of the heart

That beats in us

So passionate and strong—

Art passed beyond the evening angelus

And Memnon's morning song.

··········

Man's life on earth—how brief!

Yet we with Nature hold the high belief,

E'en when our hearts are breaking,

That death is but the vital way,

Darkness the shadow of the day,

And sleep the door to waking!

And shall we still with tears

Pay tribute sad to one whose soul endears

Even the dark, dark river it hath crossed?

Shall we in grief forget

The sweetness and the glory of our debt,

And that no good, once given, can be lost?

Distant thy dwelling seems,

Poet and patriot!—but, ah, thy dreams

Are living as the flame of sacrifice!

Therefore love's roses now

We lay amidst the laurel for thy brow,

Grateful that souls like thine our earth emparadise.

The Unconquered Air, and Other Poems

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