On the Dark Threshold
How cold it feels ! tho’ the sun still shines on your face so close above.1
I am slipping into the Silent Place, where I shall not see you, Love ;2
I must walk along through the Gates of Death to the Land we do not know.3
Do not weep for me when they lay me down where the cypress-trees bend low.4
Do not weep for me when I lie asleep, for my dreams shall be of thee ;5
I shall see thine eyes, I shall feel thy touch, it will cheer and hearten me
;6
Though we do not know what this death may mean, yet I shall not go with dread,7
Though I walk alone in the Silent Land, for my love will not be dead.8
Though my dreadful sleep I shall dream of thee, and thine eyes shall light the grave ;9
Death can never take from the lonely one the love that living gave ;10
I shall feel they kiss when the winds blow soft in the cypress-trees above,11
I shall dream of thee through the long, long years, nor grow weary dreaming, Love !12