 | Landmarks and other poems |  |
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AFTERWARD.
No more? Through all the years to meet
No more? No more! Alas, no more!
I pray thy lips may smile as sweet—
Unblest, I bless thee as before;
In solitudes of men apart
My life's blind flowers for their dawn
Shall grope and climb—into thy heart;
And grow—in dreams of sunshine gone!
No more? No more! Alas, no more!
I pray thy lips may smile as sweet—
Unblest, I bless thee as before;
In solitudes of men apart
My life's blind flowers for their dawn
Shall grope and climb—into thy heart;
And grow—in dreams of sunshine gone!
No more? Through all the years to meet
No more? No more! Alas, no more!
The tide that in my heart has beat
May ebb, but still must haunt the shore
And leave vague shells of thought to lie
And murmur evermore of thee;
On barren sand, until I die,
The tide-mark of my love shall be.
No more? No more! Alas, no more!
The tide that in my heart has beat
May ebb, but still must haunt the shore
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And murmur evermore of thee;
On barren sand, until I die,
The tide-mark of my love shall be.
No more? Through all the years to meet
No more? No more! Alas, no more!
Yet oft from embers, strange and sweet,
Shall start the flame so sweet before.
Again thy face I may not see,
But still thy spirit in mine shall rise;
The violets over graves shall be,
And from their souls shall look thine eyes.
No more? No more! Alas, no more!
Yet oft from embers, strange and sweet,
Shall start the flame so sweet before.
Again thy face I may not see,
But still thy spirit in mine shall rise;
The violets over graves shall be,
And from their souls shall look thine eyes.
| Landmarks and other poems | |