Harriet Monroe

A Farewell

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.