Classic Poem

And did you think because your name
Came slowly, in a broken breath,
We had abandoned you to death?

And if no quiet monument
Marks out a little place of sun,
We had forgotten how you went?

The cold wind of oblivion
Shall never blow across the place
That holds remembrance of your face.

Your quick delight, your tenderness,
The depth of your unerring look,
The straight spear of your manliness.

The eager memories you poured
Into the shortened years, remain.
Now that the grief is spent, the pain

Is almost done. And where the air,
In a cool dawn is clear and still,
I know that I have found you there . . .