AH are not taken; there are left behind Living Beloveds,' tender looks to bring. And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices to make soft the wind. But if it were net so—lf I could find No love in all the world for comforting, Nor any path but hollowly did ring, Where "dust to dust" the love from life disjoined; And if, before those sepulchres amoving, I steed alone (as some forsaken lamb Goes Weatinrup the moors in weary dearth), Crying: "Where are ye, O my loved and loving?" I know a voice would sound: " Daughter, I am. Can I suffice for Heaven, and not for earth?"
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CONSOLATION., Evening Star, Issue 15683, 23 December 1914