 | At the beautiful gate and other songs of faith |  |
108
LOVE'S LATE REMORSE.
How will it be
When you at last in heaven we see,—
Dear souls, whose footsteps in lost days,
Made musical earth's toil-worn ways,
While we not half the loneliness
That bound you to our side could guess?
Where angels know your footfall, we
Are fain to be.
When you at last in heaven we see,—
Dear souls, whose footsteps in lost days,
Made musical earth's toil-worn ways,
109
That bound you to our side could guess?
Where angels know your footfall, we
Are fain to be.
We never knew—
So heedlessly we walked with you—
The drops we jostled from your cup,
That, spilt, could not be gathered up:
We might have given you foam and glow
From our own beaker's overflow;—
Ah! what we might have been to you,
We never knew!
So heedlessly we walked with you—
The drops we jostled from your cup,
That, spilt, could not be gathered up:
We might have given you foam and glow
From our own beaker's overflow;—
Ah! what we might have been to you,
We never knew!
We might have lent
Such strength, such comfort and content
To you, out of our ample store:
We might have hastened on before
To lift the shadows from your way,
Darkened, ere noon, to twilight's gray;
With earth's cold air love's warm heart-scent
We might have blent.
Such strength, such comfort and content
To you, out of our ample store:
We might have hastened on before
To lift the shadows from your way,
Darkened, ere noon, to twilight's gray;
With earth's cold air love's warm heart-scent
We might have blent.
Dear, wistful eyes,
Ye haunt us with your kind surprise,
Your tender wonder that a heart
Should thus be left alone, apart,
So loving, so misunderstood
By us, in our self-centred mood:
Alas! in vain to you arise
Our longing cries!
Ye haunt us with your kind surprise,
Your tender wonder that a heart
Should thus be left alone, apart,
So loving, so misunderstood
By us, in our self-centred mood:
Alas! in vain to you arise
Our longing cries!
110
Oh, will you wait
For us, beyond the shining gate?
Though lovely gifts behind you left,
We want yourselves: we are bereft.
From your new mansion glorious
Will you lean out to look for us?
Shut is the far-off, shining gate:—
Are we too late?
For us, beyond the shining gate?
Though lovely gifts behind you left,
We want yourselves: we are bereft.
From your new mansion glorious
Will you lean out to look for us?
Shut is the far-off, shining gate:—
Are we too late?
| At the beautiful gate and other songs of faith | |