The Parting.
By Jean Blewett
One summer's morning I heard a lark
Singing to heaven, a sweet-throated bird;
One winter's night I was glad in the dark
Because of the wondrous song I had heard.
The joy of life, I have heard you say,
Is my love, my laughter, my smiles and tears;
When I have gone on the long, strange way,
Let these stay with you through all the years -
These be the lark's song. What is love worth
That cannot crowd, in the time that's given
To two like us on this gray old earth,
Such bliss as will last till we reach heaven?
Dear one, think oft of the full, glad years,
And, thinking of them, forget to weep.
Whisper: "Remembrance holds no tears!"
And kiss my mouth when I fall on sleep.