I cannot think that you have gone away,

You loved the earth—and life lit up your eyes,

And flickered in your smile that would surmise

Death as a song, a poem, or a play.

You were reborn afresh with every day,

And baffled fortune in some new disguise.

Ah! can it perish when the body dies,

Such youth, such love, such passion to be gay?

We shall not see you come to us and leave

A conqueror—nor catch on fairy wing

Some slender fancy—nor new wonders weave

Upon the loom of your imagining.

The world is wearier, grown dark to grieve

Her child that was a pilgrim and a king.