O sorrowful thought! But one more flying year, <br />And our ways part, perhaps no more to meet: <br />And must we, then, less dear <br />Grow to each other, as the swift days fleet? <br /> <br />Look, as two boughs from one stem branching grow <br />Apart, until their high leaves touch no longer; <br />Save when some chance gust, stronger <br />Than most, the one back to the other blow: <br /> <br />Like that tree's branches, so shall we two be; <br />Our paths how far divorced from where they started! <br />Yet still, however parted, <br />Rooted in the dear past and memory. <br /> <br />Time cannot take those; for our souls are free, <br />Whatever come. Then O when you have leisure <br />For old thoughts, think of me, <br />Whose mind holds you for its most treasured treasure.<br /><br />Robert Laurence Binyon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/o-sorrowful-thought-but-one-more-flying-year/
