And still embattled age
Wars against youth.

Yet I believe still in the ever-living God
That fills your grave with perfume,
Writing your name in violets across the sod,
Shielding your holy face from hail and snow;
And, though the withered stay, the lovely go,
No transitory wrong or wrath of things
Shatters the faith--that each slow minute brings

That meadow nearer to us where your feet
Shall flicker near me like white butterflies--
That meadow where immortal lovers meet,
Gazing for ever in immortal eyes.


"I KNOW NOT IN WHAT PLACE"

I know not in what place again I'll meet
The face I love--but there is not a street
In the wide world where you can wander, sweet,
Without my finding you, with those great eyes;
Nor is there any star in all the skies
Can give you shelter from my pitiless love.


RESURRECTION

Is it your face I see, your voice I hear?