10.08.2014, 13:20
SUNDERED
I SHALL not touch her face, her hands again;
I shall not mingle her warm breath with mine
I shall not drink again the nectared wine
Of her swift kisses, for dear Love is slain.
Yea, Love lies cold and dead; but pallid Pain,
Upon whose haggard cheeks the salt tears shine,
Hath set upon our brows her blood-red sign
Of hopeless anguish, like the mark of Cain.
Upon us Time hath wrought his change, for lo !
Not now we meet and pass as heretofore,
Each knowing that which none save us could know-
How full of love our hearts were to the core;
But now across life's wide waste fields we go
Our separate ways, to meet again no more.
I SHALL not touch her face, her hands again;
I shall not mingle her warm breath with mine
I shall not drink again the nectared wine
Of her swift kisses, for dear Love is slain.
Yea, Love lies cold and dead; but pallid Pain,
Upon whose haggard cheeks the salt tears shine,
Hath set upon our brows her blood-red sign
Of hopeless anguish, like the mark of Cain.
Upon us Time hath wrought his change, for lo !
Not now we meet and pass as heretofore,
Each knowing that which none save us could know-
How full of love our hearts were to the core;
But now across life's wide waste fields we go
Our separate ways, to meet again no more.