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Normale Version: PARTING
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PARTING

LOVE, are our lives so long that we may part
For months and years, nor feel a pang of grief?
Or is the measure of the days so brief
That, as they go, they leave no bitter smart
To trace its dreary record on the heart?
O, unto thee is not the fallen leaf,
The withered landscape, and the rustling sheaf,
Presageful of a time when we must start
Upon a longer journey, nevermore
To come again and clasp each other's hand,
And look with love into each other's eyes?
Lo ! here we may not tarry long, for o'er
Our sight a vapor gathers, and the land
Lies wrapped in gloom descending from the skies.