FOR there are two heavens, sweet, Both made of love, -- one, inconceivable Even by the other, so divine it is; The other, far on @3this@1 side of the stars, By men call'd @3home@1, when some blest pair are met As we are now; sometimes in happy talk, Sometimes in silence, each at gentle task Of book, or household need, or meditation, By summer-moon, or curtain'd fire in frost; And by degrees there come, -- not always come, Yet mostly, -- other, smaller inmates there, Cherubic-faced, yet growing like those two, Their pride and playmates, not without meek fear, Since God sometimes to his own cherubim Takes those sweet cheeks of earth. And so twixt joy, And love, and tears, and whatsoever pain Man fitly shares with man, these two grow old; And if indeed blest thoroughly, they die In the same spot, and nigh the same good hour, And setting suns look heavenly on their grave. |