For Those Who Mourn . . .

L'Envoi

by Willa Cather

Where are the loves that we have loved before


When once we are alone, and shut the door ?


No matter whose the arms that held me fast,


The arms of Darkness hold me at the last.


No matter down what primrose path I tend,


I kiss the lips of Silence in the end.


No matter on what heart I found delight,


I come again unto the breast of Night.


No matter when or how love did befall,

'Tis Loneliness that loves me best of all,


And in the end she claims me, and I know


That she will stay, though all the rest may go.


No matter whose the eyes that I would keep


Near in the dark, 'tis in the eyes of Sleep


That I must look and look forever more,


When once I am alone, and shut the door.

"Blessed are those who mourn, 

for they shall be comforted."

Matthew 5: 4