I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless; <br />That only men incredulous of despair, <br />Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air <br />Beat upward to God's throne in loud access <br />Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness, <br />In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare <br />Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare <br />Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express <br />Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death-- <br />Most like a monumental statue set <br />In everlasting watch and moveless woe <br />Till itself crumble to the dust beneath. <br />Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet: <br />If it could weep, it could arise and go.<br /><br />Elizabeth Barrett Browning<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grief/
