IF we must part, this parting is the best: <br />How would you bear to lay <br />Your head on some warm pillow far away-- <br />Your head, so used to lying on my breast? <br /> <br />But now your pillow is cold; <br />Your hands have flowers, and not my hands, to hold; <br />Upon our bed the worn bride-linen lies. <br />I have put the death-money upon your eyes, <br />So that you should not wake up in the night. <br />I have bound your face with white; <br />I have washed you, yes, with water and not with tears,-- <br />Those arms wherein I have slept so many years, <br />Those feet that hastened when they came to me, <br />And all your body that belonged to me. <br />I have smoothed your dear dull hair, <br />And there is nothing left to say for you <br />And nothing left to fear or pray for you; <br />And I have got the rest of life to bear: <br />Thank God it is you, not I, who are lying there. <br /> <br />If I had died <br />And you had stood beside <br />This still white bed <br />Where the white, scented, horrible flowers are spread,-- <br />I know the thing it is, <br />And I thank God that He has spared you this. <br />If one must bear it, thank God it was I <br />Who had to live and bear to see you die, <br />Who have to live, and bear to see you dead. <br /> <br />You will have nothing of it all to bear: <br />You will not even know that in your bed <br />You lie alone. You will not miss my head <br />Beside you on the pillow: you will rest <br />So soft in the grave you will not miss my breast. <br />But I--but I--Your pillow and your place-- <br />And only the darkness laid against my face, <br />And only my anguish pressed against my side-- <br />Thank God, thank God, that it was you who died!<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-death-12/
