Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense is starkest madness.
'This the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,-you're straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.
This poem reflects the

The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth-
The sweeping up the heart
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.
The predominant mood of this poem is best captured by the words