THE world is left behind him quite, His soul hath journeyed many a mile Already on her heavenly flight; Though here he tarries yet awhile. The tired old body's with us yet: The spirit has gone free and pressed Beyond life's long fatigue and fret To where is quietness and rest. He looks at us and sees us not, Or sees us dimly: his tired eyes, Innocent, without fleck or spot, Wear the child's colour and the sky's. He has regained his innocence, Is newly-washed and white and sweet, Clean from the stains of sin and sense, Like a dear child from head to feet. Only his heart's love answers ours. The old heart tarries with us still, Puts out green shoots of love, fresh flowers, That age nor Death himself can kill. A child, a child in the dark awhile Whom the dark frightens till he turns Glad to his mother-daughter's smile And her kind heart for which he yearns. Across what infinite distances He looks at us? across what sea? Only our hearts have touch with his, Else we had lost him utterly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KILLED IN ACTION by ISAAC ROSENBERG WHERE MY BOOKS GO by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS LOVE IS LIKE A DIZZINESS by JAMES HOGG A HYMN WRITTEN IN WINDSOR FOREST by ALEXANDER POPE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 68 by PHILIP SIDNEY CORRYMEELA by NESTA HIGGINSON SKRINE |