SOMETIME.
Well, either you or I,
After whatever is to say is said,
Must see the other die,
Or hear, through distance, of the other dead,
Sometime.
After whatever is to say is said,
Must see the other die,
Or hear, through distance, of the other dead,
Sometime.
And you or I must hide
Poor empty eyes and faces, wan and wet
With Life's great grief, beside
The other's coffin, sealed with silence, yet,
Sometime.
Poor empty eyes and faces, wan and wet
With Life's great grief, beside
The other's coffin, sealed with silence, yet,
Sometime.
And you or I must look
Into the other's grave, or far or near,
And read, as in a book,
Writ in the dust, words we made bitter here,
Sometime.
Into the other's grave, or far or near,
And read, as in a book,
Writ in the dust, words we made bitter here,
Sometime.
Then, through what paths of dew,
What flush of flowers, what glory in the grass,
Only one of us two,
Even as a shadow walking, blind may pass,
Sometime!
What flush of flowers, what glory in the grass,
Only one of us two,
Even as a shadow walking, blind may pass,
Sometime!
