AFTER PARTING.
O Love, O Death! how sweet,
How strange are ye! oh Parting! that dost stand
Between these twain, from touch of either hand—
One warm, one cold, thou winnest strength to meet
Thy hour and overcome it! Tenderness
And woe are twins! and may not deeply bless
Except together, when the tear one weeps
Falls in the golden cup the other keeps
Hid for this moment in his breast, unshown
Till needed most;
How strange are ye! oh Parting! that dost stand
Between these twain, from touch of either hand—
One warm, one cold, thou winnest strength to meet
Thy hour and overcome it! Tenderness
And woe are twins! and may not deeply bless
Except together, when the tear one weeps
Falls in the golden cup the other keeps
Hid for this moment in his breast, unshown
Till needed most;
When Love must leave its Own
Belovèd, loved unto the end, it broke
Its vase of costliest odours; though it spoke
Before as none have spoken, then its tone
Was fullest, clearest; breaking hearts have flown
To fasten on those words, "Be not afraid!"
And aching spirits, desolate, have grown
Like limpets to this Rock, "now have I prayed
The Father for you, and ye are not lone,—
I leave you not uncomforted." E'en so
Full oft since then hath Parting made us know
Belovèd, loved unto the end, it broke
Its vase of costliest odours; though it spoke
Before as none have spoken, then its tone
Was fullest, clearest; breaking hearts have flown
To fasten on those words, "Be not afraid!"
And aching spirits, desolate, have grown
Like limpets to this Rock, "now have I prayed
The Father for you, and ye are not lone,—
I leave you not uncomforted." E'en so
Full oft since then hath Parting made us know
