When you were tired and went away,
I said, amid my new heart-ache:
"When I catch breath from pain some day,
I will teach grief a worthier way,
And make a great song for his sake!"
Yet there is silence. O my friend,
You gave me love such years ago—
A child who could not comprehend
Its worth, yet kept it to the end—
How can I sing when you lie low?
Not always silence. O my dear,
Not when the empty heart and hand
Reach out for you, who are not near.
If you could see, if you could hear,
I think that you would understand.
The grief that can get leave to run
In channels smooth of tender song
Wins solace mine has never won.
I have left all my work undone,
And only dragged my grief along.
Many who loved you many years
(Not more than I shall always do),
Will breathe their songs in your dead ears;
God help them if they weep such tears
As I, who have no song for you.
You would forgive me, if you knew!
Silence is all I have to bring
(Where tears are many, words are few);
I have but tears to bring to you,
For, since you died, I cannot sing!