Classic Poem

Hearts oft die bitter deaths before
The breath is breathed away,
And number weary twilights o'er,
Ere the last evening gray.

I've sometimes looked on closed eyes,
And folded hands of snow,
And said, " It was no sacrifice;
The heart went long ago. "

O blessed Death, that makes our bed
Beneath the daisies deep!
O mocking Life, when hearts have fled,
And eyes must watch and weep!