| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXXIV. Compensation
‘I held it truth, with him who sings’ | | By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892) |
| | From ‘In Memoriam’
I HELD it truth, with him who sings | |
| To one clear harp in divers tones, | |
| That men may rise on stepping-stones | |
| Of their dead selves to higher things. | |
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| But who shall so forecast the years | 5 |
| And find in loss a gain to match? | |
| Or reach a hand thro’ time to catch | |
| The far-off interest of tears? | |
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| Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drown’d, | |
| Let darkness keep her raven gloss: | 10 |
| Ah, sweeter to be drunk with loss, | |
| To dance with death, to beat the ground, | |
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| Than that the victor Hours should scorn | |
| The long result of love, and boast, | |
| ‘Behold the man that loved and lost, | 15 |
| But all he was is overworn.’… | |
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| This truth came borne with bier and pall, | |
| I felt it, when I sorrow’d most, | |
| ’Tis better to have loved and lost, | |
| Than never to have loved at all. | 20 | | | |
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