Classic Poem

'Mid sterner losses let us own this gain—
An infant this will evermore remain:
Those other, should they reach life's longer date,
In them the coming will obliterate
The past; and we shall what they were forget,
Our eyes upon their later semblance set;
But this remaineth an eternal child.
Might sorrow for a little be beguiled,
Even with this thought a soothing fancy brings!
Her image has escaped the flux of things,
And that same infant beauty which she wore
Is fixed upon her now for evermore—
The everlasting garment fresh and new
Which in our eyes will ever her endue,
Which she will not put off, as the others must,
For garments soilèd more with this world's dust:
As though a bud should be a bud for ever,
A crystal rill ne'er swell to turbid river;
As though on aught most fleeting and most fair,
The roseate tints which clouds of evening wear,
We might lay hands on, and fix them ever there.