I've only read snippets of it, but Mallarme wrote a whole book of fragments of verse after the death of his son Anatole. Moving, and yet oddly in line with the aestheticism of his other verse.
Here's a couple of extracts:
ailing in
springtime
mourned in autumn
--celestial soul
----
the wave -
idea attacks
the highest aim
nothing but
to part pure
from life
you accomplish it
in advance
in suffering
all this--gentle
infant so that
This will be counted
part of your due--your kin
have bought the rest by their
suffering the loss forever
Stuart
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