Poetry Archives

By the sad waters of separation
   Where we have wandered by divers ways,
I have but the shadow and imitation
   Of the old memorial days.

In music I have no consolation,
   No roses are pale enough for me;
The sound of the waters of separation
   Surpasseth roses and melody.

By the sad waters of separation
   Dimly I hear from an hidden place
The sigh of mine ancient adoration:
   Hardly can I remember your face.

If you be dead, no proclamation
   Sprang to me over the waste, gray sea:
Living, the waters of separation
   Sever for ever your soul from me.

No man knoweth our desolation;
   Memory pales of the old delight;
While the sad waters of separation
   Bear us on the the ultimate night.