It must have been for one of us, my own, To drink this cup and eat this bitter bread, Had not my tears upon thy face been shed, Thy tears had dropped on mine; if I alone Did not walk now, thy spirit would have known My loneliness, and did my feet not tread This weary path and steep, thy feet had bled For mine, and thy mouth had for mine made moan; And so it comforts me, yea, not in vain To think of thy eternity of sleep, To know thine eyes are tearless though mine weep; And when this cup's last bitterness I drain, One thought shall still its primal sweetness keep -- Thou hadst the peace and I the undying pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GHOST OF DEACON BROWN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MONODY ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT HON. R.B. SHERIDAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ETHELSTAN: RUNILDA'S CHANT by GEORGE DARLEY A GLASS OF BEER by JAMES STEPHENS THE RAJPOOT WIFE by EDWIN ARNOLD THE SCEPTIC by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THIS IS THE END by JEAN DE BOSSCHERE |