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Alfred Lord Tennyson - In Memoriam A. H. H.: 82
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I wage not any feud with Death
        For changes wrought on form and face;
        No lower life that earth`s embrace
May breed with him, can fright my faith.
Eternal process moving on,
        From state to state the spirit walks;
        And these are but the shatter`d stalks,
Or ruin`d chrysalis of one.
Nor blame I Death, because he bare
       The use of virtue out of earth:
       I know transplanted human worth
Will bloom to profit, otherwhere.

For this alone on Death I wreak
       The wrath that garners in my heart;
       He put our lives so far apart
We cannot hear each other speak.
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