HER IMMORTALITY
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PON a noon I pilgrimed throughA pasture, mile by mile,Unto the place where I last sawMy dead Love’s living smile. And sorrowing I lay me downUpon the heated sod:It seemed as if my body pressedThe very ground she trod. I lay, and thought; and in a tranceShe came and stood me by—The same, even to the marvellous rayThat used to light her eye. “You draw me, and I come to you,My faithful one,” she said,In voice that had the moving toneIt bore ere breath had fled. She said: “’Tis seven years since I died:Few now remember me;My husband clasps another bride;My children’s love has she. “My brethren, sisters, and my friendsCare not to meet my sprite:Who prized me most I did not knowTill I passed down from sight.” I said: “My days are lonely here;I need thy smile alway:I’ll use this night my ball or blade,And join thee ere the day.” A tremor stirred her tender lips,Which parted to dissuade:“That cannot be, O friend,” she cried;“Think, I am but a Shade! “A Shade but in its mindful onesHas immortality;By living, me you keep alive,By dying you slay me. “In you resides my single powerOf sweet continuance here;On your fidelity I countThrough many a coming year.” —I started through me at her plight,So suddenly confessed:Dismissing late distaste for life,I craved its bleak unrest. “I will not die, my One of all!—To lengthen out thy daysI’ll guard me from minutest harmsThat may invest my ways!” She smiled and went. Since then she comesOft when her birth-moon climbs,Or at the seasons’ ingressesOr anniversary times; But grows my grief. When I surcease,Through whom alone lives she,Ceases my Love, her words, her ways,Never again to be!
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