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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

Les Morts Vont Vite

By Henry Cuyler Bunner (1855–1896)

[From Airs from Arcady and Elsewhere. 1884.]

LES morts vont vite! Ay, for a little space

We miss and mourn them, fallen from their place;

To take our portion in their rest are fain;

But by-and-by, having wept, press on again,

Perchance to win their laurels in the race.

What man would find the old in the new love’s face?

Seek on the fresher lips the old kisses’ trace?

For withered roses newer blooms disdain?

Let morts vont vite!

But when disease brings thee in piteous case,

Thou shalt thy dead recall, and thy ill grace

To them for whom remembrance plead in vain.

Then, shuddering, think, while thy bed-fellow Pain

Clasps thee with arms that cling like Death’s embrace:

Let morts vont vite!