In Memoriam (Tennyson)/Canto 79

by Alfred Tennyson

lxxix.

Could I have said while he was here
⁠'My love shall now no further range,
⁠There cannot come a mellower change,
For now is love mature in ear.'

Love, then, had hope of richer store:
⁠What end is here to my complaint?
⁠This haunting whisper makes me faint,
'More years had made me love thee more.'

But Death returns an answer sweet:
⁠'My sudden frost was sudden gain,
⁠And gave all ripeness to the grain,
It might have drawn from after-heat.'