Verse > Anthologies > Higginson and Bigelow, eds. > American Sonnets
Higginson and Bigelow, comps.  American Sonnets.  1891.
Beside the Dead
By Ina Donna Coolbrith (1841–1928)
WITH hands that folded are from every task,
It must be sweet, O thou, my dead, to lie
Sealed with the seal of the great mystery—
The lips that nothing answer, nothing ask;
The life-long struggle ended; ended quite        5
The weariness of patience, and of pain;
And the eyes closed to open not again
On desolate dawn or dreariness of night.
It must be sweet to slumber and forget;
To have the poor tired heart so still at last:        10
Done with all yearning, done with all regret,
Doubt, fear, hope, sorrow, all forever past:
Past all the hours, or slow of wing or fleet—
It must be sweet, it must be very sweet!

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