After Death
And there will be just as rich fruits to cull
And jewels to see;
Nor shall the moon nor the sun be any more dull;
And there will be flowers as fine to pull,
And the rain will be as beautiful—
But not for me.
And there shall be no splendour gone from the vine,
Nor from the tree;
And still in the heavens shall glow Jah's radiant sign,
And the dancing sun on horses' sleek hides shall seem no less fine;
Still shall the car sweep along with as lovely a line—
But not for me.
And men shall cut no less curious things upon brass,
Still sweep the sea;
Nor no little, lustrous shadow upon the sand's mass
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Cast by the lilting ripple above shall cease to pass.
And radiance still shall enhalo shadows on moonlit grass—
But not for me.