I would not trace the hackneyed phrase
Of shallow words and empty praise,
And prate of “peace” till one might think
My foolish pen was drunk with ink.
Nor will I here the wish express
Of “lasting love and happiness,”
And “cloudless skies” — for after all
“Into each life some rain must fall.”
— No. Keep the empty page below,
In my remembrance, white as snow —
Nor sigh to know the secret prayer
My spirit hand has written there.