The New Year comes with her radiant face,
Clad in white, like a waiting bride —
But she brings no word through the empty space,
No message has reached me since you died.

Was Death Life's ending, or did you go
To a realm so vast, and a task so high,
That you have forgotten this world below,
Where Life is a Dream, and the Dreamers die?

Shall I know, some day, when a cold, still hand
Leads me, in my turn, from this transient sphere,
And guides me on to that Unseen Land,
Why you were taken, and I left here?
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