Classic Poem

The shadows gather round me, while you are in the sun;
My day is almost ended, but yours is just begun:
The winds are singing to us both and the streams are singing still,
And they fill your heart with music, but mine they cannot fill.

Your home is built in sunlight, mine in another day;
Your home is close at hand, sweet friend, but mine is far away:
Your bark is in the haven where you fain would be;
I must launch out into the deep, across the unknown sea.

You, white as dove or lily or spirit of the light;
I, stained and cold and glad to hide in the cold dark night:
You, joy to many a loving heart and light to many eyes;
I, lonely in the knowledge earth is full of vanities.

Yet when your day is over, as mine is nearly done,
And when your race is finished, as mine is almost run,
You, like me, shall cross your hands and bow your graceful head;
Yea, we twain shall sleep together in an equal bed.