A Farewell

By Harriet Monroe

GOOD-BY: nay, do not grieve that it is over—

  The perfect hour;

That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover,

  Flits from the flower.

Grieve not,—it is the law. Love will be flying—       

  Yea, love and all.

Glad was the living; blessed be the dying!

  Let the leaves fall.