Beyond Recall

There was a time when Death and I     Came face to face together: I was but young indeed to die,     And it was summer weather; One happy year a wedded wife, And I was slipping out of life. You knelt beside me, and I heard,     As from some far-off distance, A bitter cry that dimly stirred     My soul to make resistance. You thought me dead; you called my name; And back from Death itself I came. But oh! that you had made no sign,     That I had heard no crying! For now the yearning voice is mine,     And there is no replying: Death never could so cruel be As Life—and you—have proved to me!