610

You'll find—it when you try to die
The Easier to let go
For recollecting such as went
You could not spare—you know

And though their places somewhat filled
As did their Marble names
With Moss—they never grew so full
You chose the newer names

And when this World—sets further back
As Dying—say it does
The former love—distincter grows
And supersedes the fresh

And Thought of them—so fair invites
It looks too tawdry Grace
To stay behind—with just the Toys
We bought—to ease their place