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AT PARTING |
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|
 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
509
AT PARTING
What is there left for us to say,
Now it is time to speak good-by?
And all our dreams of yesterday
Are one with yester-evening's sky—
What is there left for us to say,
Now different ways before us lie?
Now it is time to speak good-by?
And all our dreams of yesterday
Are one with yester-evening's sky—
What is there left for us to say,
Now different ways before us lie?
A word of hope, a word of cheer,
A word of love, whose help shall last,
When we are far to bring us near
Through memories of the happy past;
A word of hope, a word of cheer,
To keep our young hearts true and fast.
A word of love, whose help shall last,
When we are far to bring us near
Through memories of the happy past;
A word of hope, a word of cheer,
To keep our young hearts true and fast.
What is there left for us to do,
Now it is time to say farewell?
And care, that bade us once adieu,
Returns again with us to dwell—
What is there left for us to do,
Now different ways our fates compel?
Now it is time to say farewell?
And care, that bade us once adieu,
Returns again with us to dwell—
What is there left for us to do,
Now different ways our fates compel?
510
Clasp hands and kiss, touch lips and smile,
And look the love that shall remain—
When severed so by many a mile—
The sweetest balm for bitterest pain:
Clasp hands and kiss, touch lips and smile,
And trust to God to meet again.
And look the love that shall remain—
When severed so by many a mile—
The sweetest balm for bitterest pain:
Clasp hands and kiss, touch lips and smile,
And trust to God to meet again.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |