To Lucasta

  IF to be absent were to be       Away from thee;     Or that, when I am gone,     You or I were alone;   Then, my Lucasta, might I crave Pity from blustering wind or swallowing wave.   But I ’ll not sigh one blast or gale       To swell my sail,     Or pay a tear to ’suage     The foaming blue-god’s rage;   For, whether he will let me pass Or no, I ’m still as happy as I was.   Though seas and lands be ’twixt us both,       Our faith and troth,     Like separated souls,     All time and space controls:   Above the highest sphere we meet, Unseen, unknown; and greet as angels greet.   So, then, we do anticipate       Our after-fate,     And are alive i’ the skies,     If thus our lips and eyes   Can speak like spirits unconfined In heaven,—their earthly bodies left behind.