The people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this you keep them alive.
Robert MontgomeryBeneath our feet a fairy pathway flows, The grass still glitters in the summer breeze, The dusky wood, and distant copse appear, And that lone stream, upon whose chequerยd face We mused, when noon-rays made the pebbles gleam, Is mirrorยd to the mind: though all around Be rattling hoofs and roaring wheels, the eye Is wandยring where the heart delights to dwell.
Robert MontgomerySay, care-worn man, Whom Duty chains within the city walls, Amid the toiling crowd, how grateful plays The fresh wind oยer thy sickly brow, when free To tread the springy turf,โ to hear the trees Communing with the gales,โto catch the voice Of waters, gushing from their rocky womb, And singing as they wander... Spring-hours will come again, and feelings rise With dewy freshness oยer thy witherยd heart.
Robert Montgomery