When I remember that the day will come <br />For this our love to quit his land of birth, <br />And bid farewell to all the ways of earth <br />With lips that must for evermore be dumb, <br /> <br />Then creep I silent from the stirring hum, <br />And shut away the music and the mirth, <br />And reckon up what may be left of worth <br />When hearts are cold and love's own body numb. <br /> <br />Something there must be that I know not here, <br />Or know too dimly through the symbol dear; <br />Some touch, some beauty, only guessed by this--- <br />If He that made us loves, it shall replace, <br />Beloved, even the vision of thy face <br />And deep communion of thine inmost kiss.<br /><br />Sir Henry Newbolt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-i-remember-3/
