What Death doth take for wife is
What life has of good and of fair
The pain of passing's knife is
Not the less that it is everywhere
All goes all flows all life is
But the wreck of its own self for e'er
Yet hope we that this going
A semblance and lie can but be
That the river that is flowing
Will find how far be it a sea
That beyond our frail knowing
A deeper life eternally
Keeps all that seems to wither
All that seems to go wits to-day
And that in a way to bother ?
Our subtlest thoughts to dismay
Form and matter together
Live e'er in a timeless Alway