第21章 Consolation

All are not taken; there are left behind Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind: But if it were not so—if I could find No love in all this world for comforting, Nor any path but hollowly did ring Where dust to dust the love from life disjoind;

And if, before those sepulchres unmoving I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth) Crying Where are ye, O my loved and loving?— I know a voice would sound, Daughter, I AM. Can I suffice for Heaven and not for earth?