Once more I see the happy young
   Broken by grief and pain;
That tears have made like earth's red worms
   Turned white by days of rain.
Once more I see the new-made wife
   From her dead husband torn;
When down she sits and weeps, and laughs,
   And rocks her babe unborn.
And when I see a hearse that takes
   A coffin through the town,
Or pass the quiet house of death,
   That has its blinds drawn down -
Such pity moves me for the dear
   Ones left to mourn behind,
That I am glad my loves are dreams
   Made purely of the mind:
That take expression for their grave,
   When they have served their hour;
And I create a younger brood
   To charm me with new power.