The Two
(To F. P. R.)
A tender love between us twined, and death is hard to bear —
And at the first I could not find courage to stem despair;
I did not know how I should find your presence everywhere,
In the trees and woods and wilds and desert places.
My limbs were numb, my heart was dead, my soul a mist of sorrow;
I had no joy in the days that fled, nor yearning to the morrow;
All that I had inherited my soul had seemed to borrow
From the cadence of the mournful ocean spaces.
But now that I am grown more wise, I see your life again
Like the first gleam in new-washed skies of rainbow after rain, —
In the soft dreams of women's eyes, the lips of men in pain, —
Above all, in old men and children's faces.
A tender love between us twined, and death is hard to bear —
And at the first I could not find courage to stem despair;
I did not know how I should find your presence everywhere,
In the trees and woods and wilds and desert places.
My limbs were numb, my heart was dead, my soul a mist of sorrow;
I had no joy in the days that fled, nor yearning to the morrow;
All that I had inherited my soul had seemed to borrow
From the cadence of the mournful ocean spaces.
But now that I am grown more wise, I see your life again
Like the first gleam in new-washed skies of rainbow after rain, —
In the soft dreams of women's eyes, the lips of men in pain, —
Above all, in old men and children's faces.
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