O wise were they who warned this brief Remembering flesh—that as the leaf
Forsakes the limb to be made one With dust; as April's resurrection
Is brought to ruin and robbed of bud And bird; and as the frantic flood
Is hushed by winter's brittle breath—
So even Love must come to death. . . ,
O Heart, what wisdom they have lost,
Forgetting the dead possess a ghost. . . .