In Memoriam A.H.H.
held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
their dead selves to higher things.
who shall so forecast the years
And find in loss a gain to match?
Or reach a hand thro’ time to catch
far-off interest of tears?
Love clasp Grief lest both be drown’d,
Let darkness keep her raven gloss:
Ah, sweeter to be drunk with loss,
dance with death, to beat the ground,
that the victor Hours should scorn
The long result of love, and boast,
‘Behold the man that loved and lost,
all he was is overworn.’
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