THE SECOND COVENANT

By William Rose Benét

I dreamt that we were lying

On a high hill afar,

Our deepest thoughts replying

To one lone star.

High from the vault of heaven

Its silver rays were shed;

And the deep peace between us

Was the peace of the dead.

Our busy lives were over,

Our day and night and day;

Of you and me your lover,

Nought more to say;

And sorrows we had vanquished

And blisses we had known

And our cares and our kisses

To the four winds were blown.

The handclasp of contrition,

The eyesight of each

Where each had recognition,

Were passed, with our speech.

Vast night declared above us,

“Now sight and semblance fade,

No heart's emotion bindeth

A shadow to a shade.”

Then within me, lying near you,

A dark sadness grew

That, to cherish or to cheer you,

There was nought left to do.

Of happy daily service

Nought now remained to me —

Of good news for you and comfort

As once it used to be.

No beauty save the spirit's

Abode wide heaven's scrolls;

No charm the flesh inherits,

No strength save the soul's;

As breath upon a mirror

All recognizing sign.

Yet nearer far and dearer

Your soul spoke to mine.

For viewed not of each other,

Yet closer side by side

Than child unto his mother,

Than husband to bride,

Thought unto thought you answered.

One prayer we seemed — one breath;

And the deep love between us

Was the love after death.