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.