Unfailing

Frances Shaw

When, like a flower, your loved one lies
Beneath the grasses
Sleeping the great sleep,
Go out unlonely to the folding hills—
They will not let you weep.

When one by one your dreams have stolen by,
And blackness fills the night,
And pain and care,
Reach up for comfort to the leaning sky—
The coming of the dawn is still a prayer.