Communion
In the silence of my heart,I will spend an hour with thee,When my love shall rend apartAll the veil of mystery:
All that dim and misty veilThat shut in between our soulsWhen Death cried, “Ho, maiden, hail!”And your barque sped on the shoals.
On the shoals? Nay, wrongly said.On the breeze of Death that sweepsFar from life, thy soul has spedOut into unsounded deeps.
I shall take an hour and comeSailing, darling, to thy side.Wind nor sea may keep me fromSoft communings with my bride.
I shall rest my head on theeAs I did long days of yore,When a calm, untroubled seaRocked thy vessel at the shore.
I shall take thy hand in mine,And live o’er the olden daysWhen thy smile to me was wine,—Golden wine thy word of praise,
For the carols I had wroughtIn my soul’s simplicity;For the petty beads of thoughtWhich thine eyes alone could see.
Ah, those eyes, love-blind, but keenFor my welfare and my weal!Tho’ the grave-door shut between,Still their love-lights o’er me steal.
I can see thee thro’ my tears,As thro’ rain we see the sun.What tho’ cold and cooling yearsShall their bitter courses run,—
I shall see thee still and beThy true lover evermore,And thy face shall be to meDear and helpful as before.
Death may vaunt and Death may boast,But we laugh his pow’r to scorn;He is but a slave at most,—Night that heralds coming morn.
I shall spend an hour with theeDay by day, my little bride.True love laughs at mystery,Crying, “Doors of Death, fly wide.”