FP#472, late 1862; JP#660

‘Tis good - the looking back on Grief -
To re-endure a Day -
We thought the Mighty Funeral -
Of All Conceived Joy -

T recollect how Busy Grass
Did meddle - one by one -
Till all the Grief with Summer - waved
And non could see the stone.

And though the Woe you have Today
Be larger - As the Sea
Exceeds its Unremembered Drop -
They’re Water - equally -