‘Tis good the looking back on Grief
To re-endure a Day
We thought the Mighty Funeral
Of All Conceived Joy
To recollect how Busy Grass
Did meddle- one by one
Till all the Grief with Summer waved
And none could see the stone.
And though the Woe you have Today
Be larger- As the Sea
Exceeds its Unremembered Drop
They’re Water equally
