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IF that be yet a living soul which here Seemed brighter for the growth of numbered springs And clothed by Time and Pain with goodlier things Each year it saw fulfilled a fresh fleet year, Death can have changed not aught that made it dear; Half humorous goodness, grave-eyed mirth on wings Bright-balanced, blither-voiced than quiring strings; Most radiant patience, crowned with conquering cheer; A spirit inviolable that smiled and sang By might of nature and heroic need More sweet and strong than loftiest dream or deed; A song that shone, a light whence music rang High as the sunniest heights of kindliest thought; All these must be, or all she was be nought |