The Kiss

When you lay before me dead,
In your pallid rest,
On those passive lips of thine
Not one kiss I pressed!

Did you wonder—looking down
From some higher sphere—
Knowing how we two had loved
Many and many a year?

Did you think me strange and cold
When I did not touch,
Even with reverent finger-tips,
What I had loved so much?

Ah! when last you kissed me, dear,
Know you what you said?
“Take this last kiss, my beloved,
Soon shall I be dead!

Keep it for a solemn sign,
Through our love’s long night,
Till you give it back again
On some morning bright.”

So I gave you no caress;
But, remembering this,
Warm upon my lips I keep
Your last living kiss!