Poem by Louise Chandler Moulton

After Death

          And very sweet it is
          To know he is still warm though I am cold.
   
                                                 Christina Rossetti

I would not have thee warm when I am cold;
But both together--'neath some sylvan mound,
Amid the pleasant secrets under ground,
Where green things flourish in the embracing mould,
And jealous seeds the souls of blossoms hold--
In some sweet fellowship of silence bound,
Deeper than life, more exquisite than sound,
Rest tranquilly while Love's new tales are told.

We will not grudge the waking world its bliss,
Its joy of speech, its gladness of surprise,
When lovers clasp each others hands and kiss
And earth puts on new glory to their eyes:
We, lying there with Death's deep knowledge wise,
Shall know that we have found Life's best in this.

1. Were But My Spirit Loosed Upon The Air
2. Afar
3. My Birthday
4. A Summer's Growth
5. Love Is Dead

Algernon Swinburne After Death ("THE FOUR boards of the coffin lid")

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