Poetry Sunday: Song by Edith Wharton

Occasionally one comes across a poem that says exactly what one would say if one were a poet. Here is such a poem that speaks for me. This one is for Bob.


Song
by Edith Wharton
Let us be lovers to the end,
O you to whom my soul is given,
Whose smiles have turned this earth to heaven,
Fast holding hands as we descend
Life’s pathway devious and uneven,
Let us be lovers to the end.
Dear, let us make of Time a friend
To bind us closer with his cares,
And though grief strike us unawares
No poisoned shaft that fate can send
Shall wound us through each other’s prayers,
If we are lovers to the end.
Let us be lovers to the end
And, growing blind as we grow old,
Refuse forever to behold
How age has made the shoulders bend
And Winter blanched the hair’s young gold.
Let us be lovers to the end.
Whichever way our footsteps tend
Be sure that, if we walk together,
They’ll lead to realms of sunny weather,
By shores where quiet waters wend.
At eventide we shall go thither,
If we are lovers to the end.

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