There is a quiet in my heart Like on who rests from days of pain. Outside, the sparrows on the roof Are chirping in the dripping rain. Rain in my heart; rain on the roof; And memory sleeps beneath the gray And the windless sky and brings no dreams Of any well remembered day. I would not have the heavens fair, Nor golden clouds, nor breezes mild, But days like this, until my heart To loss of you is reconciled. I would not see you. Every hope To know you as you were has ranged. I, who am altered, would not find The face I loved so greatly changed. Edgar Lee Masters