This is one of our days, dear heart,
Of scents and sounds and weather;
And everything speaks of the old earth ways
When we two were together.
In spite of my knowing your spirit is near,
As you over and over declare it,
I want your face, and your voice, and your touch
In the old earth way--oh, I want them so much!
It is all I can do to bear it.
I was a desolate soul so long
After your flight to heaven:
And then the Universe broke into song
Because of your messages given.
And now I never more feel alone;
You have said, and I must believe you,
That ever your spirit dwells near in Space.
Yet to-day for your touch, and your voice, and your face
I am weeping, dear, though it grieve you.
Oh, often I feel I am quite content
To let you be living in glory;
For the things you have told me since you went
Make life a beautiful story.
And the time, at longest, cannot be long
Ere we are again together;
But I want you now in the dear earth ways!
For this is one of our old sweet days
Of scents and sounds and weather.
I know I shadow the light of your soul
Whenever I fall to weeping:
And I shadow my own clear sight of the goal
When storms go over me sweeping.
But this is one of our days, dear heart,
Old memories all are waking;
And I want you back as you used to be,
To clasp, and to touch, and to hear, and to see.
Oh, dearest, my heart is breaking!
Poems of affection. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
London: Gay & Hancock, 1920.
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