Classic Poem

We joked, long ago, about one of us dying,
But suddenly, before my eyes, you are gone.
Almost all your clothes have been given away;
Your needlework is sealed, I dare not look at it....
I continue your bounty to our men and our maids
Sometimes, in a dream, I bring you gifts.
...This is a sorrow that all mankind must know
But not as those know it who have been poor together.