I had not till today been sure,
But now I know:
Dead men and women come and go
Under the pure
Sequestering snow.
And under the autumnal fern
And carmine bush,
Under the shadow of a thrush,
They move and learn;
And in the rush
Of all the mountain-brooks that wake
With upward fling
To brush and break the loosening cling
Of ice, they shake
The air with Spring!
I had not till today been sure
But now I know:
Dead youths and maidens come and go
Below the lure
And undertow
Of cities, under every street
Of empty stress,
Or heart of an adulteress:
Each loud retreat
Of lovelessness.
For only by the stir we make
In pa**ing near
Are we confused, and cannot hear
The ways they take
Certain and clear.
Today I happened in a place
Where all around
Was silence; until, underground,
I heard a pace,
A happy sound.
And people whom I there could see
Tenderly smiled,
While under a wood of silent, wild
Antiquity
Wandered a child,
Leading his mother by the hand,
Happy and slow,
Teaching his mother where to go
Under the snow.
Not even now I understand -
I only know.