Separation.

A poem by Nora Pembroke

ELIZABETH TO WALTER


He has come and he has gone,
Meeting, parting, both are o'er;
And I feel the same dull pain,
Aching heart and throbbing brain
Coming o'er me once again
That I often felt before.


For he is my father's son,
And, in childhood's loving time
He and I so lone, so young,
No twin blossoms ever sprung,
No twin cherries ever clung,
Closer than his heart and mine.

He is changed, ah me! ah me!
Have we then a different aim?
Shall earth's glory or its gold
Make his heart to mine grow cold?
Or can new love kill the old?
Leaving me for love and fame

Oh, my brother fair to see!
Idol of my lonely heart,
Parting is a time of test,
Father, give him what is best,
Father keep him from the rest,
Bless him though we fall apart.

Well I know love will not die,
It will cause us bliss or pain;
We may part for many years,
But my loving prayers and tears,
Rising up to Him who hears,
Will yet draw him back again.

From the fount of tenderness,
All the past comes brimming up;
When his brow is touched with care,
When no grief of his I share,
When we're separated far,
It will be a bitter cup;
Bless him from before Thy throne,
Thus my heart to Thee makes moan,
Keep him Lord where he is gone