Canto LXXX

I wage not any feud with Death

      For changes wrought on form and face;

      No lower life that earth's embrace

May breed with him, can fright my faith,

Eternal process moving on,

      From state to state the spirit walks;

      And these are but the shatter'd stalks

Or ruined chrysalis of one.

Nor blame I Death, because he bare

      The use of virtue out of earth;

      I know transplanted human worth

Will bloom to profit, otherwhere.

For this alone on Death I wreak

      The wrath that garners in my heart;

      He put our lives so far apart

We cannot hear each other speak.