THE KISS
When you lay before me dead, In your pallid rest, On those passive lips of thine Not one kiss I pressed!
Did you wonder—looking down From some higher sphere— Knowing how we two had loved Many and many a year?
Did you think me strange and cold When I did not touch, Even with reverent finger-tips, What I had loved so much?
Ah! when last you kissed me, dear, Know you what you said? “Take this last kiss, my beloved, Soon shall I be dead!
Keep it for a solemn sign, Through our love’s long night, Till you give it back again On some morning bright.”
So I gave you no caress; But, remembering this, Warm upon my lips I keep Your last living kiss!