Page:Poems Greenwell.djvu/239

        For ofttimes Love must grieve;
For us content and willing to be sad,
It left the Halls wherein they made it glad
And came to us that grieved it I oft below
It hides its face because it will not show
 The stain upon it! now I feel its clear
Full shining eyes upon me, and I know
 Soon I shall meet the kiss without the tear!

        For all my life grows sweet,
I know not how to name it; from behind
 Comes up a murmur voluble and fleet
Of mingling voices, some were harsh, some kind,
But all are turned to gentleness, the wind
That bears them onwards hath so soft a wing,
As if it were a Dove unused to bring
Aught but a loving message; so Earth sends
 One only question on it from the track
Where I have passed, "Friends, friends? we part as friends?"
 And all my soul takes up and sendeth back
One word for echo and for answer, "Friends."

        And, oh, how fair this Earth
I leave!—methinks of old I never took
 Account of half its loveliness and worth;
Yea! oft I mourned because I could not look
More deep within the pages of this Book,
God's glorious Book shut in between the eves
And glowing morns, I read betwixt the leaves