Of Age and Love

A WIFELESS grave, a childless funeral
Are sadly yielded to the silvered head.
The tomb looks darker for the unloved dead
To those unwitting ones who bear his pall.
They err in pity, not accounting all
The lights on lonely pathways overshed.
Ev'n I, the loneliest man of men unwed,
Have large sweet hopes of meetings to befall.
Here with a hand upon the latch of death
I thank God humbly, thinking, through this gate
Passed Edith purely; happy Marion stands
A little way within in heaven's mild breath,
With loving Mary whom I knew too late,
And gentle Alice, brought by the pierced Hands.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.