Though I am dead, grieve not of me with tears, Think not of death with sorrowing and fears. I am so near, that every tear you shed Touches and tortures me - though you think me dead. But when you laugh and sing in glad delight, My soul is lifted upward to the light. Laugh and be glad for all that life is giving And I, though dead, will share your joy in living. Anne, With love and lots of memories.