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.