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DEATHLESS DEATH
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,
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