A Farewell

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GOOD-BY: nay, do not grieve that it is over—
  The perfect hour;
That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover,
  Flits from the flower.

Grieve not,—it is the law. Love will be flying—  
  Yea, love and all.
Glad was the living; blessed be the dying!
  Let the leaves fall.

© Harriet Monroe