Splendour in the Grass (read by the Matriarch)

What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now forever taken from my sight
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind
In the primal sympathy
Which, having been, must ever be
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering
In the faith that looks through death
In years that bring the philosophic mind



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