The Still Blooming Flower Poem by Robert Stoddard

In Humble travel I’ve met you,
In gentle words your heart was true.
Through miracles my arms you found.
Within my spirit you were bound.

With pacing hands, that pierced my own,
From easy lives we were thrown.
Knowing well of my life’s fate
We split our path before too late.

Breaking through my sorrow’s pain,
In few short days I built our train.
I’ll remember you in distant lands,
For “I’ve graven thee upon my hands”.