Sir Gilbert Parker
It is enough that in this burdened time
The soul sees all its purposes aright.
The rest-what does it matter? Soon the night
Will come to whelm us, then the morning chime.
What does it matter, if but in the way
One hand clasps ours, one heart believes us true;
One understands the work we try to do,
And strives through Love to teach us what to say?
Between me and the chilly outer air
Which blows in from the world, there standeth one
Who draws Love's curtains closely everywhere,
As God folds down the banners of the sun.
Warm is my place about me, and above,
Where was the raven, I behold the dove.
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Comments about this poem (Love's Comradeship by Sir Gilbert Parker )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
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