No verse may ever capture well
The depth and breadth of present sorrow,
Yet we attempt in words to tell
Its measure, heedless of tomorrow.
When others come in retrospect
Bearing bereavements of their own,
They may with written grief connect
And realize theirs not alone.
The bonds of human sympathy
Link past with present, place with place,
So keening, though it has to be,
May be suffused by heav’nly grace.