Edith Nesbit (15 August 1858 – 4 May 1924 / Kennington / Surrey / England)
Good-bye, good-bye; it is not hard to part!
You have my heart--the heart that leaps to hear
Your name called by an echo in a dream;
You have my soul that, like an untroubled stream,
Reflects your soul that leans so dear, so near -
Your heartbeats set the rhythm for my heart.
What more could Life give if we gave her leave
To give, and Life should give us leave to take?
Only each other's arms, each other's eyes,
Each other's lips, the clinging secrecies
That are but as the written words to make
Records of what the heart and soul achieve.
This, only this we yield, my love, my friend,
To Fate's implacable eyes and withering breath.
We still are yours and mine, though, by Time's theft,
My arms are empty and your arms bereft.
It is not hard to part--not harder than Death;
And each of us must face Death in the end!
Comments about this poem (A Farewell by Edith Nesbit )
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