Classic Poem

Love, let's be thankful we are past the time
When griefs are comfortless; and, though we mourn,
Feel in our sorrow something now sublime,
And in each tear the sweetness of a kiss.
Weep on and smile, then, for we know in this
Our immortality, — that nothing dies
Within our hearts, but something new is born,
And what is roughly taken from our eyes
Gently comes back in visions of the morn,
When dreams are truest. Oh, but death is bliss!
I feel as certain, looking on the face
Of a dead sister, smiling from her shroud,
That our sweet angel hath but changed her place,
And passed to peace, as when, amid the crowd
Of the mad city, I feel sure of rest
Beyond the hills, ... a few hours further west.