XIV.
Could we have known that death was near
How many things our lips would then have said,
Winning sweet answer from the lips now dead,
Things sweet to say and hear!
What loving farewell then upon the verge
Of this the change supreme,
Within full sight, full hearing of the surge
Of that strange sea that flashed with distant gleam!
What thoughts to tarry with us night and day
Then through the coming years,
Thoughts that might wipe away
Some well-nigh hopeless tears!
Ah! so we dream. In this the answer lies
Perhaps to our despair—
That love is changeless, whether past the skies
Or breathing here our earthly air:
That where most perfect love
Has been, no farewell formal and forlorn
Could aid, or serve to move
From the pierced brow one point of thorn.
The last “Good-night”—not known to be the last—
This, it may be, far more availed
Than any summing up of all the past
Or kiss, while life's strength slowly failed.
