On a Grey Thread/The Friend Departs
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The Friend Departs
'T is not alone that you have gone from me:
All the hungry, fragile roots of hope
Are blasted by a Thing I cannot name;
And I am desolate remembering
All the hungry, fragile roots of hope
Are blasted by a Thing I cannot name;
And I am desolate remembering
The rare kiss, the intimate silent climbing
From passion to a breathless comprehension.
Even my peace of heart, born of long pain,
Dies, drowned in a turbulence of passion.
From passion to a breathless comprehension.
Even my peace of heart, born of long pain,
Dies, drowned in a turbulence of passion.
Life today is like a glass reflecting
Nothing more than my own grieving eyes,
Or like a goblet that I sit and stare at,
Empty of all but stains of last night's wine.
Nothing more than my own grieving eyes,
Or like a goblet that I sit and stare at,
Empty of all but stains of last night's wine.