Sonnet Written to Bouts-rimes (I sought among the living, and I seek)

I sought among the living, and I seek
Among the dead, for some to love; but few
I found at last, and those had quite run through
Their store of love; and friendship is too weak,
Too cold for me; yet will I never speak,
Telling my heart-want to smooth listeners who
Would wonder smiling; I can bear and do --
Hot shame shall dry no tears upon my cheek.
So, when my dust shall mix with other dust,
When I shall have found quiet in decay,
And lie at ease and cease like a mere thought, --
Those whom I loved, thinking on me, shall not
Grieve with a measure, saying, " Now we must
Weep for a little ere we laugh to-day."