I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: "'T will keep."I woke and chid my honest fingers,—The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.

When the Best is gone - I know that other things are not of consequence - The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care -

Heart, we will forget him!You and I, to-night!You may forget the warmth he gave,I will forget the light.When you have done, pray tell me,That I my thoughts may dim;Haste! lest while you’re lagging,I may remember him!

The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear; Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year.And then, that we have followed them We more than half suspect, So intimate have we become With their dear retrospect.

I had a daily bliss I half indifferent viewed, Till sudden I perceived it stir,— It grew as I pursued, Till when, around a crag, It wasted from my sight, Enlarged beyond my utmost scope, I learned its sweetness right.

And I, could I stand byAnd see you freeze,Without my right of frost, Death's privilege?

Each that we lose takes a part of us; A crescent still abides, Which like the moon, some turbid night, Is summoned by the tides.

Endow the Living - with the Tears - You squander on the Dead.

Then, as horizons step, Or noons report away,Without the formula of sound, It passes, and we stay:A quality of loss Affecting our content.