To One Departed.
Reading edition
I.
This life, Dear Heart, seems all so small and mean Since thou art gone,—its prizes vague and vain, Its efforts fruitless and its glories lean, And all its heaped-up treasures worthless gain!
II.
Amid them all my slow feet wander lone,— My heart cries hopeless for its perfect mate; The fancies murmur and the longings moan For thee whose absence leaves me desolate.
III.
Yet, somewhere, somehow, in the years that shine With God's perfected wisdom throned above, I know thou wait'st my coming, with divine Enraptured welcomes of supremest love.
IV.
The Vision beckons, and I fix my gaze Unchanging to the promise of the skies: The full fruition of these lonely days Dwells in the heaven of thine angel eyes!
V.
What matter, Dear, though dullard thousands throng And jostle rudely at Life's holy feast? The dull ears hear no tender strains of Song, And they that know Love best know Love the least.
VI.
And still with yearning hands that longing grope And straining eyes that search to pierce the doom, I creep the path-ways of my only Hope, And seek the Loved One passed beyond the Gloom!