She touched my hand as the singer sang, A pressure, and that was all. She knew the music would bring a pang To my heart and its griefs recall. And no one saw her touch my hand, Save the singer, of all the throng, Who sang like one of God's angel band; For he put our love in his song. He told me love lives by hope alone, By faith that a heart is true; That love by night must weep and moan, And restlessly suffer the long day through. He said her touch meant her pure soul Was whispering close to mine: "Be strong! If here this is the whole, In heaven I shall be thine." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE UNDERWORLD by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE SHIPWRECK, SELECTION by WILLIAM FALCONER THE BOUGH OF NONSENSE by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL, 1861 by LUCY LARCOM LINCOLN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE GREAT SAINT BERNARD by SAMUEL ROGERS DANAIDES: THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND EARTH by AESCHYLUS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 80, 81. GHAFOOR, MUNTAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD |