Classic Poem

No more, no more, sad memory, speak no more.
Those days were happy ones, but they are lost.
They stand like friends upon a fading shore
Waving farewells to one on billows tossed
Toward another world. And I could weep
My soul to agony, had I not learned
To force regretful tears back to the deep
Whence they would rise. Alas, tears backward turned
Burn as they flow, and leave their livid trace
Upon the sufferer's calm unflinching face.

Hope's fluttering pennant catches on the wave
Light from the sunset of the past. The flower
That blossoms in the grass upon the grave
Breathes of a life beyond death's dreadful power.
Music and poesy transport the soul
Sometimes almost—almost—within the veil.
I know the unsounded stream doth darkly roll
Between us and Beulah, but I hail
With fixed faith a light on Aidenn's shore.
No more, no more, sad memory, speak no more.