THREE KISSES.
Three, only three, my darling,
Separate, solemn, slow;
Not like the swift and joyous ones
We used to know,
When we kissed because we loved each other,
Simply to taste love’s sweet,
And lavished our kisses as the summer
Lavishes heat;
But as they kiss whose hearts are wrung,
When hope and fear are spent,
And nothing is left to give, except
A sacrament!
First of the three, my darling,
Is sacred unto pain;
We have hurt each other often,
We shall again,—
When we pine because we miss each other,
And do not understand
How the written words are so much colder
Than eye and hand.
I kiss thee, dear, for all such pain
Which we may give or take;
Buried, forgiven before it comes,
For our love’s sake.
The second kiss, my darling,
Is full of joy’s sweet thrill;
We have blessed each other always,
We always will.
We shall reach until we feel each other,
Beyond all time and space;
We shall listen till we hear each other
In every place;
The earth is full of messengers
Which love sends to and fro;
I kiss thee, darling, for all joy
Which we shall know!
The last kiss, O my darling—
My love—I cannot see,
Through my tears, as I remember
What it may be.
We may die and never see each other,
Die with no time to give
Any sign that our hearts are faithful
To die, as live.
Token of what they will not see
Who see our parting breath,
This one last kiss, my darling, seals
The seal of death!
