“WE PART FOR EVER!”
“We part for ever!” Silent be our parting;
Let not a word its sacred grief profane!
Heart press'd to heart—with not a tear upstarting,
An age of anguish in that moment's pain!
'Tis just and right. It is our “crown of sorrow:”
Bravely we'll meet it as becomes our love—
A love so strong, so pure, it well may borrow
Bright wings to waft it to the joy above.
We part for ever!—o'er my soul in sadness,
No more the music of thy voice shall glide
Low with deep feeling—till a passionate gladness
Thrill'd to each tone and in wild tears replied.
No more thy light caressing touch shall calm me,
With its dear magic on my lifted brow;
No more thy pen of fire shall pour to charm me,
The poet-passion of thy fervent vow!
We part for ever! Proud shall be the story
Of hearts that hid affection fond as ours;
The joy that veil'd the universe in glory
Fades with thy presence from her skies and flowers.
The soul that answer'd, like the sun-touch'd lyre,
To thy dear smile—to every tone of thine,
Henceforth is hush'd, with all its faith—its fire,
Till thou rewaken it in realms divine?
We part for ever! Ah! this world's for ever—
What is its fleetness unto hearts so strong?
Here in our wordless agony we sever;
There we shall meet where love will be no wrong.
“In Paradise!” Dost thou e'er dream as I, love,
Of that sweet life when all the truth—the grace—
All the soft melodies in our souls that sigh, love,
Shall make the light and beauty of the place?
We meet for ever! Tenderly lamenting
The wild, dear weakness of our earthly day,
Beneath the passionate tears of that repenting,
What luminous flowers shall spring to bless our way!
And for all tuneful tones, our love revealing,
Some bird or rill shall wake in sweet reply;
And every sigh of pity or of feeling
Shall call a cloud of rose light from the sky.
To thy rare, gorgeous fantasies responding,
Rich palaces mid wondrous scenes shall rise;
To thy proud harp's impassion'd tones resounding,
The minstrel-wind shall play its wild replies.
Visions of unimagined grace and splendour,
For ever changing round thy rapturous way,
Now beauteous sculpture bathed in moonlight tender,
Now radiant paintings to thy wish shall play.
But I will speak a fair bower into being,
With tender, timid, wistful words and low,
And tune my soul, until, with heaven agreeing,
It chords with music to which blossoms grow.
And they, the flowers, and I will pray together,
While thou, for “Love's sweet sake,” shalt join the prayer,
Till all sweet influences of balmy weather
And lovely scenery make us good and fair.
And ever to our purer aspirations
A lovelier light and bloom the flowers shall take;
With rarer grace shall glow our soul's creations,
With mellower music every echo wake.
“We meet in Paradise!” To hallow'd duty,
Here with a loyal, an heroic heart,
Bind we our lives—that so divinest beauty
May bless that heaven where naught our souls can part.
