Where?

Where is my love-- In silence and shadow she lies,

Under the April-grey, calm waste of the skies; And a bird above, In the darkness tender and clear, Keeps saying over and over, Love lies here!

Not that she's dead; Only her soul is flown

Out of its last pure earthly mansion; And cries instead In the darkness, tender and clear, Like the voice of a bird in the leaves, Love--love lies here.