Yes Thou Art Gone by Anne Brontë

    Yes, thou art gone! and never more
    Thy sunny smile shall gladden me;
    But I may pass the old church door,
    And pace the floor that covers thee,

    May stand upon the cold, damp stone,
    And think that, frozen, lies below
    The lightest heart that I have known,
    The kindest I shall ever know.

    Yet, though I cannot see thee more,
    'Tis still a comfort to have seen;
    And though thy transient life is o'er,
    'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been;

    To think a soul so near divine,
    Within a form, so angel fair,
    United to a heart like thine,
    Has gladdened once our humble sphere.