The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||
AFTER LOVE'S PASSING.
The awful stillness in two human souls
Whence Love has passed away;
The dreary night no moon of joy controls;
The undelightful day;—
Whence Love has passed away;
The dreary night no moon of joy controls;
The undelightful day;—
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The cruel coldness where was once Love's heat;
The darkness where was light;
The burning, tearless eyes; the weary feet
That journey day and night;—
The darkness where was light;
The burning, tearless eyes; the weary feet
That journey day and night;—
The long, dark way that has no end but one,—
That goal no man may miss;
The winds that wail about the sunken sun
For life's departed bliss;—
That goal no man may miss;
The winds that wail about the sunken sun
For life's departed bliss;—
The fearful loneliness that comes between
Those souls erst one, now twain;
The passionate memory of what has been;
The unavailing pain;—
Those souls erst one, now twain;
The passionate memory of what has been;
The unavailing pain;—
The springs that come, but bring no hope of change;
The cheerless, summer hours;
With songs of birds grown old and harsh and strange,
And scentless, bloomless flowers;—
The cheerless, summer hours;
With songs of birds grown old and harsh and strange,
And scentless, bloomless flowers;—
The fruitless autumn, with no garnered corn;
The dreary, winter weather;
The two who walk apart, alone, forlorn,
Who once kept step together;—
The dreary, winter weather;
The two who walk apart, alone, forlorn,
Who once kept step together;—
The bitter sense of failure and regret;
The life without an aim;
The unavailing struggle to forget
The weakness, owned with shame;—
The life without an aim;
The unavailing struggle to forget
The weakness, owned with shame;—
These things make sad the night and sad the day,
And hard are they to bear:
Yet let those souls whence Love has passed away
Though sad, keep pure and fair:
And hard are they to bear:
Yet let those souls whence Love has passed away
Though sad, keep pure and fair:
Ah, let them say, “Great Love once tarried here
Making his home divine,—
Though he has passed, yet let us still hold dear
The temple and the shrine.”
Making his home divine,—
Though he has passed, yet let us still hold dear
The temple and the shrine.”
The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||