Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/One of These Days

by Sophia Courtoulde Hazlett-Bevis

One of These Days.

One of these days when all the years so silent
 Have passed into eternity at last,
And you and I stand face to face, thus meeting,
 Shall we remember all the bitter past?

Shall we remember all the woe and heartache,
 That met us on life's morn and sunlit path?
Shall we in awe stand back, the pain renewing,
 As glance, to glance, a greater misery hath?

Will stifled moans, pale lips the torture hiding,
 Be wrung from hearts whose cup is more than full?
Will tears trace deeper, in the furrows graven?
 Or shall an apathy our spirits lull?

Shall aching brain be horrified with vision,
 Panoramic view of scenes we would forget?
Shall worn hands clinch, and make therein incision,
 And blood drip from a life full of regret?

Must all the thorns be tread upon as olden,
 Our weary feet no rest as yet to feel?
Must burdens borne, bow lower in submission,
 Before His touch our broken spirits heal?

If so, dear God, from out thy loving kindness,
 Let one soul drift into a blissful naught—
My own—and if a wild mistaken, blindness,
 Forgive, and understand the silence bought.