IF, in the silence of this lonely eve,
With the street lamp pale flickering on the wall,
An angel were to whisper me, "Believe--
It shall be given thee. Call!"--whom should I call?
And then I were to see thee gliding in
Clad in known garments, that with empty fold
Lie in my keeping, and my fingers, thin
As thine were once, to feel in thy safe hold:
"I should fall weeping on thy neck and say,
"I have so suffered since--since--" But my tears
Would stop, remembering how thou count'st thy day
A day that is with God a thousand years.
Then what are these sad days, months, years of mine,
To thine eternity of full delight?
What my whole life, when myriad lives divine
May wait, each leading to a higher height?
I lose myself--I faint. Beloved, best,
Let me still dream, thy dear humanity
Sits with me here, my head upon thy breast,
And then I will go back to heaven with thee.
