Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
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Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
 
1567. Separation
 
By Martha Gilbert Dickinson
 
 
THERE be many kinds of parting—yes, I know
Some with fond, grieving eyes that overflow,
Some with brave hands that strengthen as they go;
Ah yes, I know—I know.
 
But there be partings harder still to tell,        5
That fall in silence, like an evil spell,
Without one wistful message of farewell;
Ah yes, too hard to tell.
 
There is no claiming of one sacred kiss,—
One token for the days when life shall miss        10
A spirit from the world of vanished bliss;
Ah no—not even this.
 
There is no rising ere the birds have sung
Their skyward songs, to journey with the sun,—
Nor folded hands to show that life is done;        15
Ah no, for life is young.
 
There are no seas, no mountains rising wide,
No centuries of absence to divide,—
Just soul-space, standing daily side by side;
Ah, wiser to have died.        20
 
Hands still clasp hands, eyes still reflect their own;—
Yet had one over universes flown,
So far each heart hath from the other grown,
Alone were less alone.
 

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