It Is Not The Tear At This Moment Shed

By Thomas Moore

It is not the tear at this moment shed,
When the cold turf has just been laid o'er him,
That can tell how belov'd was the friend that's fled,
Or how deep in our hearts we deplore him.
'Tis the tear, thro' many a long day wept,
'Tis life's whole path o'ershaded;
'Tis the one remembrance, fondly kept,
When all lighter griefs have faded.

Thus his memory, like some holy light,
Kept alive in our hearts, will improve them,
For worth shall look fairer, and truth more bright,
When we think how we liv'd but to love them!
And, as fresher flowers the sod perfume,
Where buried saints are lying,
So our hearts shall borrow a sweet'ning bloom
From the image he left there in dying!