Crying Where are ye, O my loved and loving?—

And tender voices, to make soft the wind:

I know a voice would s九九藏书网ound, Daughter, I AM.

An九九藏书网d make the daylight still a happy thing,

But if it were not so—if I could find

All are not taken; there

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are left behind

Can I suffice for Heaven and not for earth?

Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth)

Nor 99lib.netany path but hollowly did ring

And if, before those sepulchres unmoving

I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb

Where

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dust to dust the love from life disjoind;

No love in all this world for comforting,

Living Belovèds, tender looks to bring