Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you more than bread; Now that I am without you, all is desolate; All that was once so beautiful is dead.
You hand once touched this table and this silver, And I have seen your fingers hold this glass. These things do not remember you,beloved, And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For is was in my heart you moved amang them, And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes; And in my heart they will remember always,― They knew you once , O beautiful and wise.