Before Meeting

So we shall meet within a little space,
And on the face wherein no love has birth,
Where nought is clear save beauty and the dearth
Of passions good or ill, I long shall gaze.
We shall not speak at all of vanished days,
Of years that might have been, and made the earth
All fair to me; but words of little worth
Shall pass between us, standing face to face.

Too well I know the voice that I shall hear
When her lips, parting, give forth sound more sweet
Then ever fell before on mortal ear —
O heart of mine, be strong until we meet!
Fill well thy rok before her, O my heart,
Till death shall end the playing of thy part.