BETWEEN TWO WORLDS.
69
The future I read in toil's guerdon,
You will read in your children's eyes:
The past—the same past with either—
Is to you a delightsome scene,
But I cannot trace it clearly
For the graves that rise between.
You will read in your children's eyes:
The past—the same past with either—
Is to you a delightsome scene,
But I cannot trace it clearly
For the graves that rise between.
I am glad you are happy, Mary!
These tears, could you see them fall,
Would show, though you have forgotten,
I have remembered all.
And though my cup may be empty
While yours is all running o'er,
Heaven keep you its sweetness, Mary,
Brimming for evermore.
These tears, could you see them fall,
Would show, though you have forgotten,
I have remembered all.
And though my cup may be empty
While yours is all running o'er,
Heaven keep you its sweetness, Mary,
Brimming for evermore.
BETWEEN TWO WORLDS.
Parting for Australia.
ERE sitting by the fire I aspire, love, I aspire—
Not to that "other world" of your fond dreams,
But one as nigh and nigher,
Compared to which your real, unreal seems.
