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Portrait of the Artist as a Lone Tree


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The undiscovered country

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The undiscovered country of your love
is easier to speak of than to face;
we bid goodbye to you who rise above,
and shuffle out the tasks to take your place.
We are bereaved; but how much more are they
who leave behind all those that they have known -
their sadness is much more than words can say,
their feelings deeper ever than we own.
Wild life has run away, and left the flesh
bereft of inner light, and joy, and mind;
and though the sleeper heads for life afresh,
she troubles over those she leaves behind.
Such love you gave in life, no words can say -
but you, not we, are most bereaved today.

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