I will tell you when they met: <br />In the limpid days of Spring; <br />Elder boughs were budding yet, <br />Oaken boughs looked wintry still, <br />But primrose and veined violet <br />In the mossful turf were set, <br />While meeting birds made haste to sing <br />And build with right good will. <br /> <br />I will tell you when they parted: <br />When plenteous Autumn sheaves were brown, <br />Then they parted heavy-hearted; <br />The full rejoicing sun looked down <br />As grand as in the days before; <br />Only they had lost a crown; <br />Only to them those days of yore <br />Could come back nevermore. <br /> <br />When shall they meet? I cannot tell, <br />Indeed, when they shall meet again, <br />Except some day in Paradise: <br />For this they wait, one waits in pain. <br />Beyond the sea of death love lies <br />For ever, yesterday, to-day; <br />Angels shall ask them, 'Is it well?' <br />And they shall answer, 'Yea.'<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-day-147/
