 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
60
WITH THEE.
If I could know that after all
These heavy bonds have ceased to thrall,
We, whom in life the fates divide,
Should sweetly slumber side by side—
That one green spray would drop its dew
Softly alike above us two,
All would be well, for I should be
At last, dear loving heart, with thee!
These heavy bonds have ceased to thrall,
We, whom in life the fates divide,
Should sweetly slumber side by side—
That one green spray would drop its dew
Softly alike above us two,
All would be well, for I should be
At last, dear loving heart, with thee!
How sweet to know this dust of ours,
Mingling, will feed the self-same flowers,—
The scent of leaves, the song-bird's tone,
At once across our rest be blown,—
One breadth of sun, one sheet of rain
Make green the grass above us twain!
Ah, sweet and strange, for I should be,
At last, dear tender heart, with thee!
Mingling, will feed the self-same flowers,—
The scent of leaves, the song-bird's tone,
At once across our rest be blown,—
One breadth of sun, one sheet of rain
Make green the grass above us twain!
Ah, sweet and strange, for I should be,
At last, dear tender heart, with thee!
But half the earth may intervene
Thy place of rest and mine between—
And leagues of land and wastes of waves
May stretch and toss between our graves—
Thy bed with summer light be warm
While snow-drifts heap, in wind and storm,
My pillow, whose one thorn will be,
Beloved, that I am not with thee!
Thy place of rest and mine between—
61
May stretch and toss between our graves—
Thy bed with summer light be warm
While snow-drifts heap, in wind and storm,
My pillow, whose one thorn will be,
Beloved, that I am not with thee!
But if there be a blissful sphere
Where homesick souls, divided here,
And wandering wide in useless quest,
Shall find their longed-for heaven of rest,—
If in that higher, happier birth
We meet the joy we missed on earth,
All will be well, for I shall be,
At last, dear loving heart, with thee!
Where homesick souls, divided here,
And wandering wide in useless quest,
Shall find their longed-for heaven of rest,—
If in that higher, happier birth
We meet the joy we missed on earth,
All will be well, for I shall be,
At last, dear loving heart, with thee!
| The silver bridge and other poems | |