OW shall we know it is the last good-bye?

The skies will not be darkened in that hour,

No sudden light will fall on leaf or flower,

No single bird will hush its careless cry,

And you will hold my hands, and smile or sigh

Just as before. Perchance the sudden tears

In your dear eyes will answer to my fears;

But there will come no voice of prophecy:

No voice to whisper, “Now, and not again,

Space for last words, last kisses, and last prayer,