Classic Poem

I shall say, Lord, “Is it music, is it morning,
Song that is fresh as sunrise, light that sings?”
When on some hill there breaks the immortal warning
Of half-forgotten springs.

I shall say, Lord, “I have loved you, not another,
Heard in all quiet your footsteps on my road,
Felt your strong shoulder near me, O my brother,
Lightening the load.”

I shall say, Lord, “I remembered, working, sleeping,
One face I looked for, one denied and dear.
Now that you come my eyes are blind with weeping,
But you will kiss them clear.”

I shall say, Lord, “Touch my lips, and so unseal them;
I have learned silence since I lived and died.”
I shall say, Lord, “Lift my hands, and so reveal them,
Full, satisfied.”

I shall say, Lord, “We will laugh again to-morrow,
Now we'll be still a little, friend with friend.
Death was the gate and the long way was sorrow.
Love is the end.”