With tears they buried you to-day, br But well I knew no turf could hold br Your gladness long beneath the mould, br Or cramp your laughter in the clay; br I smiled while others wept for you br Because I knew. br br And now you sit with me to-night br Here in our old, accustomed place; br Tender and mirthful is your face, br Your eyes with starry joy are bright­ br Oh, you are merry as a song br For love is strong! br br They think of you as lying there br Down in the churchyard grim and old; br They think of you as mute and cold, br A wan, white thing that once was fair, br With dim, sealed eyes that never may br Look on the day. br br But love cannot be coffined so br In clod and darkness; it must rise br And seek its own in radiant guise, br With immortality aglow, br Making of death's triumphant sting br A little thing. br br Ay, we shall laugh at those who deem br Our hearts are sundered! Listen, sweet, br The tripping of the wind's swift feet br Along the by-ways of our dream, br And hark the whisper of the rose br Wilding that blows.