Under the blue sky, <br />And the white clouds sailing high, <br />Where the gallant wind went by, <br />A bird sang on - sang on <br />Till the day (too soon) was done. <br /> <br />And the daylight died <br />From the fields and the hillside, <br />And the moorland bare and wide . . . <br />But the bird sang on - sang on <br />Long after the light was gone - <br /> <br />Like a voice that said: <br />'Oh, you who weep your dead, <br />Be comforted - be comforted! <br />For the deed lives on, lives on <br />Long after the life is gone!' . . .<br /><br />Cicely Fox Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-dark-3/
