WE need the clasp of hand in hand, The light flashed warm from neighboring eyes: Or else as weary seasons pass -- Alas! alas! Our tenderest love grows wan and dies. The fatal years like seas expand 'Twixt souls that long have dwelt apart, Till, broadening o'er our being's verge, The ruthless surge Love's memory sweeps from out the heart. O Absence! thou unreverenced Death! Thy dense, unconsecrated clay Inurns affection past regret; No hint is set Thereon of Resurrection Day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE NIGHTINGALE by ANNE FINCH MODERN LOVE: 47 by GEORGE MEREDITH TO QUILCA; A COUNTRY HOUSE IN NO GOOD REPAIR by JONATHAN SWIFT THE LAMP [LAMPE] by HENRY VAUGHAN ON A VIOLA D'AMORE by MATHILDE BLIND ODE TO HEALTH by FRANCES (MOORE) BROOKE |