In Memoriam
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The opening
I
I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
But who shall so forecast the years And find in loss a gain to match? Or reach a hand thro’ time to catch The far-off interest of tears?
Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drown’d, Let darkness keep her raven gloss; Ah! sweeter to be drunk with loss, To dance with death, to beat the ground;
Than that the victor Hours should scorn The long result of love, and boast: ‘Behold the man that loved and lost, But all he was is overworn.’
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About this edition
- The words
- The author's text, copied word for word.
- Copied from
- Left out
- The source library's header, footer and license, in 2 places
- Page numbers and running heads from the printed pages
- The title page and opening pages before chapter 1
- Notes and pages added by translators, editors or publishers, in 2 places