Classic Poem

There was a time when I could think of death
As calmly as of life: 't was ere I knew
What sacrament of joy beyond all dream
Lies in the life welded from love of two.

Now at its whisper I more closely cling
In deadliest fear to thee. Yet one must die,
And some day one must leave the other here; —
Ay, one must go first, either thou or I!

And then I heavenward turn my anguished face,
And thank God that the way at least is free;
And none can hold, if through the pass of Death,
Even as through life, I choose to follow thee!