Died

Not by the death that kills the body. Nay, By that which even Christ bade us to fear Hath died my dead. Ah, me! if on a bier I could but see him lifeless stretched to-day, I 'd bathe his face with tears of joy, and lay My cheek to his in anguish which were near To ecstasy, if I could hold him dear In death as life. Mere separations weigh As dust in balances of love. The death That kills comes only by dishonor. Vain To chide me! vain! And weaker to implore, O thou once loved so well, loved now no more! There is no resurrection for such slain, No miracle of God could give thee breath!