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Paul Laurence Dunbar - To A Dead Friend
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It is as if a silver chord
    Were suddenly grown mute,
  And life`s song with its rhythm warred
    Against a silver lute.

  It is as if a silence fell
    Where bides the garnered sheaf,
  And voices murmuring, "It is well,"
    Are stifled by our grief.

  It is as if the gloom of night
    Had hid a summer`s day,
  And willows, sighing at their plight,
    Bent low beside the way.

  For he was part of all the best
    That Nature loves and gives,
  And ever more on Memory`s breast
    He lies and laughs and lives.
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