Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart that you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,
—They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.
This is a beautiful poem and I’m glad you included it. However, one correction needs to be made. The word “that” isn’t in the first line of the third stanza. That line should read thusly: “For it was in my heart you moved among them”. Try it, you’ll see why. It’s more rhythmic, it fits better, and it’s what Aiken wrote.