Ask not the unreplying tomb,
" Where are the dead? "
But ask the hawthorn-bloom,
Returning still
To vale and hill;
The verdure, spread
Wide as the seas;
The flowers, the trees,
The river's song;
The gain that laughs, the loss that weeps;
The strong deed of the strong,
That ever works, and never sleeps.
Or ask the ever-taking, ever-giving,
Deep ocean, and blue sky;
And they will tell thee, that the dead are living,
And cannot die.