 | Later poems by John B. Tabb |  |
64
MEMORY
I go not to the grave to weep,
But to my heart, wherein I keep
A hidden manna that hath fed
Alike the living and the dead.
But to my heart, wherein I keep
A hidden manna that hath fed
Alike the living and the dead.
We gathered it as, day by day,
It fell from heaven upon our way,
To be, if haply one were gone,
The bread for both to feed upon.
It fell from heaven upon our way,
To be, if haply one were gone,
The bread for both to feed upon.
| Later poems by John B. Tabb | |