6. ABSENCE

By Matthew Arnold

In this fair stranger's eyes of grey

Thine eyes, my love! I see.

I shiver; for the passing day

Had borne me far from thee.

This is the curse of life! that not

A nobler, calmer train

Of wiser thoughts and feelings blot

Our passions from our brain;

But each day brings its petty dust

Our soon-choked souls to fill,

And we forget because we must

And not because we will.

I struggle towards the light; and ye,

Once-long'd-for storms of love!

If with the light ye cannot be,

I bear that ye remove.

I struggle towards the light — but oh,

While yet the night is chill,

Upon time's barren, stormy flow,

Stay with me, Marguerite, still!