THOUGH thou art dying, yet I may not weep
Such grief I leave to those who part for years;
We only part for days; it may be—hours;
We have no need of tears.
Ere thy last kiss is cold upon my lips,
Thy dying clasp is loosened from my hand;
I will be with thee—thou but goest before
Into the better land.
When thou hast reached Heav'n's golden portal, pause
And cast one look adown Death's shadowy road;