Witter Bynner

GRIEVE not for the invisible, transported brow

On which like leaves the dark hair grew,

Nor for the lips of laughter that are now

Laughing inaudibly in sun and dew,

Nor for those limbs that, fallen low

And seeming faint and slow,

Shall yet pursue

More ways of swiftness than the swallow dips

Among .. and find more winds than ever blew

The straining sails of unimpeded ships!

Mourn not!—yield only happy tears

To deeper beauty than appears!