LIFE THE BELOVED

As thy friend's face, with shadow of soul o'erspread,

Somewhile unto thy sight perchance hath been

Ghastly and strange, yet never so is seen

In thought, but to all fortunate favour wed;

As thy love's death-bound features never dead

To memory's glass return, but contravene

Frail fugitive days, and always keep, I ween

Than all new life a livelier lovelihead:—

So Life herself, thy spirit's friend and love,

Even still as Spring's authentic harbinger

Glows with fresh hours for hope to glorify;

Though pale she lay when in the winter grove

Her funeral flowers were snow-flakes shed on her

And the red wings of frost-fire rent the sky.