(FRANCIS HAWTHORNE LATHROP) <br />FEBRUARY 6, 1881 <br /> <br />Come not again! I dwell with you <br />Above the realm of frost and dew, <br />Of pain and fire, and growth to death. <br />I dwell with you where never breath <br />Is drawn, but fragrance vital flows <br />From life to life, even as a rose <br />Unseen pours sweetness through each vein <br />And from the air distills again. <br />You are my rose unseen; we live <br />Where each to other joy may give <br />In ways untold, by means unknown <br />And secret as the magnet-stone. <br />For which of us, indeed, is dead? <br />No more I lean to kiss your head— <br />The gold-red hair so thick upon it; <br />Joy feels no more the touch that won it <br />When o'er my brow your pearl-cool palm <br />In tenderness so childish, calm, <br />Crept softly, once. Yet, see, my arm <br />Is strong, and still my blood runs warm. <br />I still can work, and think and weep. <br />But all this show of life I keep <br />Is but the shadow of your shine, <br />Flicker of your fire, husk of your vine; <br />Therefore, you are not dead, nor I <br />Who hear your laughter's minstrelsy. <br />Among the stars your feet are set; <br />Your little feet are dancing yet <br />Their rhythmic beat, as when on earth. <br />So swift, so slight are death and birth! <br />Come not again, dear child. If thou <br />By any chance couldst break that vow <br />Of silence at thy last hour made; <br />If to this grim life unafraid <br />Thou couldst return, and melt the frost <br />Wherein thy bright limbs' power was lost; <br />Still would I whisper—since so fair <br />This silent comradeship we share— <br />Yes, whisper 'mid the unbidden rain <br />Of tears: 'Come not, come not again!'<br /><br />George Parsons Lathrop<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-flown-soul/
