SOON did he Almighty Giver of all rest <br />Take those dear young Ones to a fearless nest; <br />And in Death's arms has long reposed the Friend <br />For whom this simple Register was penned. <br />Thanks to the moth that spared it for our eyes; <br />And Strangers even the slighted Scroll may prize, <br />Moved by the touch of kindred sympathies. <br />For--save the calm, repentance sheds o'er strife <br />Raised by remembrances of misused life, <br />The light from past endeavours purely willed <br />And by Heaven's favour happily fulfilled; <br />Save hope that we, yet bound to Earth, may share <br />The joys of the Departed--what so fair <br />As blameless pleasure, not without some tears, <br />Reviewed through Love's transparent veil of years?<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/upon-perusing-the-forgoing-epistle-thirty-years-after-its-composition/
