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Aftermath: Grief
par
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air Beat upward to God's throne in loud access Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness In souls as countries lieth silent-bare Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death -- Most like a monumental statue set In everlasting watch and moveless woe Till itself crumble to the dust beneath Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet: If it could weep, it could arise and go
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