Like snakes of cold disgust, then say again:

Go down to Lethe, not to rise and sting.

But when those eyes, that were thy sun, are shut,

When blind with tears thy gaze hath yet behold

The angel wings that carried through unknown

Untold of space thy life, thy heart, thy hope—

No Lethe then! And no forgetfulness!

But open wide thy soul: It is the sun,

The sun that sends its beauteous rays into

The dark, into the cold, into the night

And terror of thy life. If grief hath ploughed

The soil, fear not! The corn is rising, young

And green and full of hope; the sun hath called;

The sun shines full into that heart that was

So torn, so weak, that could not lift itself

{50}

Unto the heavens. They are open now,

Flooded with light; take not thine eyes away,

Bend not thy look unto the earth again,

But rise on shining wings toward the rays

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