WE wonder at, we praise your life, For crowning love with name of wife, Whose love was young in sunset-time, As in the blush of morning's prime. We cry: "Oh, what a miracle she!" And thus confess how small are we! Can rose be otherwise than rose? Can light be less than light? Can those Who love be less than love? So you To your angel spirit were but true. They dreamt she died? O, can it be, Since love alone's immortality, And love doth live through such as she? You live in death. 'Tis we are dead, In life. For you to love were wed. Your love was gold and ours dross. The sea alone can sigh our loss Of you. The morning stars alone Can sing your fame to years unflown. For all we say but tells anew How small are we; how great are you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: THE THIRD CANTO, OR FULL MOON by WILLIAM BASSE A VOICE FOR EDWARD by GLEN BLANCH TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. I KNOW THAT YOU ARE SELF-CONSCIOUS by EDWARD CARPENTER WHEN ZEPHRYS BLOW by SAMUEL TRAVERS CLOVER THE SISTERS by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE ADAM AND EVE by ELEAZAR DEXTER 1914-1918: THE DEAD SPEAK by JOHN DRINKWATER |