He is gone hence. Weep no weak tears for him:
You gave us freely what you valued most;
It is not loss, for gifts are never lost
Unto the giver. Lo, the star-kept, dim
Limits where battle fades away, and grim
d**h halts and hath no power! On that coast
His feet are set among the shining host
Who range with cherubim and seraphim.
A thousand suns are unregarded dust,
A million dawns break and are counted not,
And Beauty riseth up, and she departs
Eternally--eternally forgot;
But your fair stripling, dead beside his trust,
Is safely folded in the Heart of Hearts.