Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret. Oh death in life, the days that are no more!
I held it truth, with him who sings1 To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.2
In Memoriam. i. Stanza 1.
Note 1. The poet alluded to is Goethe. I know this from Lord Tennyson himself, although he could not identify the passage; and when I submitted to him a small book of mine on his marvellous poem, he wrote, It is Goethes creed, on this very passage.Rev. Dr. Getty (Vicar of Ecclesfield, Yorkshire). [back]