UPON the day I meet thee face to face I shall have much to tell thee, for my part; And thou, dear love, with wise and tender grace Wilt listen to the story of my heart. I shall not speak of countless ages past, Of stars and planets where I sought in vain My song amid their music sweet and vast, And missed it with a subtle sense of pain. I shall not tell thee how it fled from me Through births and deaths and spaces lone and far, And evermore through Being's tidal sea I followed still my song's on-beck'ning star. I shall not tell thee e'en one word of this, -- Perhaps in mine own self I shall not know, Such pain will flee for aye at thy first kiss, As summer's sunshine melts the weeping snow. But I shall sing my song, mine own true song, -- My heart shall sing it at the sight of thee, Until the list'ning angels nearer throng, And pause in hushed and silent ecstasy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MATER AMABILIS by EMMA LAZARUS THE PILGRIM [SONG], FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ON CHLORIS WALKING IN THE SNOW by WILLIAM STRODE LAUS DEO! by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE DOUBLE-HEADED SNAKE OF NEWBURY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE HANDSOME KNIGHT by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II |