There be many kinds of parting—yes, I know Some with fond, grieving eyes that overflow, Some with brave hands that strengthen as they go; Ah yes, I know—I know. But there be partings harder still to tell, That fall in silence, like an evil spell, Without one wistful message of farewell; Ah yes, too hard to tell. There is no claiming of one sacred kiss,— One token for the days when life shall miss A spirit from the world of vanished bliss; Ah no—not even this. There is no rising ere the birds have sung Their skyward songs, to journey with the sun,— Nor folded hands to show that life is done; Ah no, for life is young. There are no seas, no mountains rising wide, No centuries of absence to divide,— Just soul-space, standing daily side by side; Ah, wiser to have died. Hands still clasp hands, eyes still reflect their own;— Yet had one over universes flown, So far each heart hath from the other grown, Alone were less alone.
Separation
More from Poet
-
only to find Forever, blest By thine encircling arm; Only to lie beyond unrest In passion’s dreamy calm! Only to meet and never part, To sleep and never wake,— Heart unto heart and soul to soul, Dead for each other’s sake.
-
It trembled off the keys,—a parting kiss So sweet,—the angel slept upon his sword As through the gate of Paradise we swept,— Partakers of creation’s primal bliss! —The air was heavy with the breath Of violets and love till death.— Forgetful of eternal banishment— Deep down the dusk of...
-
I wanted you when skies were red, And now the sky is gray; I thought of you when shadows fled— Now falls the end of day. I called you when the hills were flame, And now the hills are bare; I sought you when the snowflakes came, And now the swallows pair!
-
There be many kinds of parting—yes, I know Some with fond, grieving eyes that overflow, Some with brave hands that strengthen as they go; Ah yes, I know—I know. But there be partings harder still to tell, That fall in silence, like an evil spell, Without one wistful message of farewell; Ah yes,...
-
Forgiveness lane is old as youth, You cannot miss your way; ’T is hedged with flowering thorn forsooth Where white doves fearless stray. You must walk gently with your Love, Frail blossoms dread your feet— And bloomy branches close above Make heaven near and sweet. Some lovers fear the stile of...