THE SAME CONTINUED Yet we shall live without love, as some live Without their limbs, their senses, maimed or deaf. We even shall forget love, and shall thrive And prosper and grow fat upon our grief. You are consoled already more than half, And wear your sorrow lightly. I will boast No longer the refusal of relief Than as a decent mourner of hopes crossed. We yet shall laugh, and laughter is more loud When following tears. The men who drive a hearse Are not the least lighthearted of the crowd. See, we have made love`s epitaph in verse And fairly buried him. God`s ways are best. Then home to pleasure and the funeral feast.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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