XVI. THE ONLY DEATH
I
When thou didst speak of death, it seemed to me
The only death would be the loss of thee.
It is not death that hurts, nor wounds nor pain;
This would be death—to see no more again
Thine eyes. There is no other death for me
Now left, O loved one, than the loss of thee.
II.
For I have so completely lost in thine
My life, that now it seemeth no more mine
But just a life that floweth, love, through thee,
As the warm land-stream mingleth with the sea.
Thou art my life; and life means now to me
The life, the beauty, and the love of thee.
