 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
94
“UNTIL DEATH.”
Make me no vows of constancy, dear friend,
To love me, though I die, thy whole life long,
And love no other till thy days shall end,—
Nay, it were rash and wrong.
To love me, though I die, thy whole life long,
And love no other till thy days shall end,—
Nay, it were rash and wrong.
It would not make me sleep more peacefully,
That thou wast wasting all thy life in woe
For my poor sake; what love thou hast for me,
Bestow it ere I go!
That thou wast wasting all thy life in woe
For my poor sake; what love thou hast for me,
Bestow it ere I go!
Thou wouldst not feel my shadowy caress
If, after death, my soul should linger here;
Men's hearts crave tangible, close tenderness,—
Love's presence, warm and near.
If, after death, my soul should linger here;
Men's hearts crave tangible, close tenderness,—
Love's presence, warm and near.
If thou canst love another, be it so;
I would not reach out of my quiet grave
To bind thy heart, if it should choose to go;—
Love should not be a slave.
I would not reach out of my quiet grave
To bind thy heart, if it should choose to go;—
Love should not be a slave.
95
My placid ghost, I trust, will walk serene
In clearer light than gilds these earthly morns,
Above the jealousies and envies keen
Which strew this life with thorns.
In clearer light than gilds these earthly morns,
Above the jealousies and envies keen
Which strew this life with thorns.
Thou wilt meet many fairer and more gay
Than I; but, trust me, thou canst never find
One who will love and serve thee night and day
With a more single mind.
Than I; but, trust me, thou canst never find
One who will love and serve thee night and day
With a more single mind.
Carve not upon a stone when I go hence,
The praises which remorseful mourners give
To buried wives—a tardy recompense—
But speak them while I live.
The praises which remorseful mourners give
To buried wives—a tardy recompense—
But speak them while I live.
Heap not the heavy marble on my grave,
To shut away the sunshine and the dew;
Let small blooms grow there, and let grasses wave,
And rain-drops filter through.
To shut away the sunshine and the dew;
Let small blooms grow there, and let grasses wave,
And rain-drops filter through.
Forget me when I die; the violets
Above my rest will blossom just as blue,
Nor miss thy tears; even Nature's self forgets;
But while I live, be true!
Above my rest will blossom just as blue,
Nor miss thy tears; even Nature's self forgets;
But while I live, be true!
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