Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
‘Is the Grave deep, Dear?’Richard Realf (1832–1878)
I
They cannot hide thee from thy Father’s heart.
Thou liest below, and I stand here above,
Yet we are not apart….
We cannot see its singers; when thou dost
With thy lark’s voice make palpitant all the sky,
I moan and pain the most.