• O dearest! while we lived and died
• A living death in every day,
• Some hours we still were side by side,
• When where I was you too might stay
• And rest and need not go away.

• O nearest, furthest! Can there be
• At length some hard-earned heart-won home,
• Where,—exile changed for sanctuary,—
• Our lot may fill indeed its sum,
• 20 And you may wait and I may come?

   

• To-night this sunset spreads two golden wings
• Cleaving the western sky;
• Winged too with wind it is, and winnowings
• Of birds; as if the day's last hour in rings
• Of strenuous flight must die.

• Sun-steeped in fire, the homeward pinions sway
• Above the dovecote-tops;
• And clouds of starlings, ere they rest with day,
• Sink, clamorous like mill-water, at wild play,
• 10 By turns in every copse:

• Each tree heart-deep the wrangling rout receives,—
• Save for the whirr within,
• You could not tell the starlings from the leaves;
• Then one great puff of wings, and the swarm heaves
• Away with all its din.

• Even thus Hope's hours, in ever-eddying flight,
• To many a refuge tend;
• With the first light she laughed, and the last light
• Glows round her still; who natheless in the night
• 20 At length must make an end.

• And now the mustering rooks innumerable
• Together sail and soar,
• While for the day's death, like a tolling knell,
• Unto the heart they seem to cry, Farewell,
• No more, farewell, no more!

• Is Hope not plumed, as 'twere a fiery dart?
• And oh! thou dying day,
• Even as thou goest must she too depart,
• And Sorrow fold such pinions on the heart,
• 30 As will not fly away?

   

• O leave your hand where it lies cool
• Upon the eyes whose lids are hot:
• Its rosy shade is bountiful
• Of silence, and assuages thought.
• O lay your lips against your hand
• And let me feel your breath through it,
• While through the sense your song shall fit
• The soul to understand.

• The music lives upon my brain
• 10 Between your hands within mine eyes;
• It stirs your lifted throat like pain,
• An aching pulse of melodies.
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• Lean nearer, let the music pause:
• The soul may better understand
• Your music, shadowed in your hand,
• Now while the song withdraws.

   

• I Looked and saw your eyes
• In the shadow of your hair,
• As a traveller sees a stream
• In the shadow of the wood;
• And I said, “My faint heart sighs,
• Ah me! to linger there,
• To drink deep and to dream
• In the sweet solitude.”

• I looked and saw your heart
• 10 In the shadow of your eyes,
• As a seeker sees the gold
• In the shadow of the stream;
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• And I said, “Ah me! what art
• Should win the immortal prize,
• Whose want must make life cold
• And Heaven a hollow dream?”

• I looked and saw your love
• In the shadow of your heart,
• As a diver sees the pearl
• 20 In the shadow of the sea;
• And I murmured, not above
• My breath, but all apart,—
• “Ah! you can love, sweet true girl,
• And is your love for me?”

   

• Ah! dear one, we were young so long,
• It seemed that youth would never go,
• For skies and trees were ever in song
• And water in singing flow
• In the days we never again shall know.
• Alas, so long!
• Ah! then was it all Spring weather?
• Nay, but we were both young and together.

• Ah! dear one, I've been old so long,
• 10 It seems that age is loth to part,
• Though days and years have never a song,
• And oh! have they still the art
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• That warmed the pulses of heart to heart?
• Alas, so long!
• Ah! then was it all Spring weather?
• Nay, but we were both young and together.

• Ah! dear one, you've been dead so long,—
• How long until we meet again,
• Where hours may never lose their song
• 20 Nor flowers forget the rain
• In glad noonlight that never shall wane?
• Alas, so long!
• Ah! shall it be then Spring weather,
• And ah! shall we be young together?

   

• Waving whispering trees,
• What do you say to the breeze
• And what says the breeze to you?
• 'Mid passing souls ill at ease,
• Moving murmuring trees,
• Would ye ever wave an Adieu?

• Tossing turbulent seas,
• Winds that wrestle with these,
• Echo heard in the shell,—
• 10'Mid fleeting life ill at ease,
• Restless ravening seas,—
• Would the echo sigh Farewell?

• Surging sumptuous skies,
• For ever a new surprise,
• Clouds eternally new,—
• Is every flake that flies,
• Widening wandering skies,
• For a sign—Farewell, Adieu?

• Sinking suffering heart
• 20That know'st how weary thou art,—
• Soul so fain for a flight,—
• Aye, spread your wings to depart,
• Sad soul and sorrowing heart,—
• Adieu, Farewell, Good-night.

   

• Thin are the night-skirts left behind
• By daybreak hours that onward creep,
• And thin, alas! the shred of sleep
• That wavers with the spirit's wind:
• But in half-dreams that shift and roll
• And still remember and forget,
• My soul this hour has drawn your soul
• A little nearer yet.

• Our lives, most dear, are never near,
• 10 Our thoughts are never far apart,
• Though all that draws us heart to heart
• Seems fainter now and now more clear.
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• To-night Love claims his full control,
• And with desire and with regret
• My soul this hour has drawn your soul
• A little nearer yet.

• Is there a home where heavy earth
• Melts to bright air that breathes no pain,
• Where water leaves no thirst again
• 20And springing fire is Love's new birth?
• If faith long bound to one true goal
• May there at length its hope beget,
• My soul that hour shall draw your soul
• For ever nearer yet.

   

• Thére is a cloud above the sunset hill,
• That wends and makes no stay,
• For its goal lies beyond the fiery west;
• A lingering breath no calm can chase away,
• The onward labour of the wind's last will;
• A flying foam that overleaps the crest
• Of the top wave: and in possession still
• A further reach of longing; though at rest
• From all the yearning years,
• 10Together in the bosom of that day
• Ye cling, and with your kisses drink your tears.

   

• The day is dark and the night
• To him that would search their heart;
• No lips of cloud that will part
• Nor morning song in the light:
• Only, gazing alone,
• To him wild shadows are shown,
• Deep under deep unknown
• And height above unknown height.
• Still we say as we go,—
• 10 “Strange to think by the way,
• Whatever there is to know,
• That shall we know one day.”