Page:A channel passage and other poems (IA channelpassageot00swinrich).pdf/164

 Not we, who loved them well, may dream What joy sublime Is theirs, if dawn through darkness gleam, And life through time.

Time seems but here the mask of death, That falls and shows A void where hope may draw not breath: Night only knows.

Love knows not: all that love may keep Glad memory gives: The spirit of the days that sleep Still wakes and lives.

But not the spirit's self, though song Would lend it speech, May touch the goal that hope might long In vain to reach.