by George William Russell
COULD you not in silence borrow
Strength to go from us ungrieving?
All these hours of loving sorrow
Only make more bitter leaving.
You will go forth lonely, thinking
Of the pain you leave behind you;
From the golden sunlight shrinking
For the earthly tears will blind you.
Better, ah, if now we parted
For the little while remaining;
You would seek when broken-hearted
For the mighty heart’s sustaining.
You would go then gladly turning
From our place of wounds and weeping,
With your soul for comfort burning
To the mother-bosom creeping.