THE CRY

They have laid him away;

Even he who was always so strong and gay

Will be locked in the earth till the judgment day;

“Dust unto dust” I have heard the priest say.

He will never return;

Though I weep my eyes blind, though I pray and yearn,—

Though the star-light goes out and the great suns burn

Into whitest ash,— he will never return.

So of weeping — no more;

It is tears fill the oceans from shore to shore;

They have made the wind salt — the wind at my door;

They harm the good ground — so of weeping — no more.

“Not again!” “Not again!”

Do you hear the sea singing that one refrain?

The pine trees, the wind and the wearysome rain

All whisper it; “Never again!” — “Not again!”

Who can tell me — who knows,

Where his lonely soul travels?

Whither it goes?—

Has he gone like the leaves?— Like yesterday's snows?—

Speak, dear Lord of Death! You who died — and arose!