Honour

Man and woman together, a man and woman
apart,
In the stress of the soul's worst weather, the anchor
less ebb of the heart,
They can say to each other no longer, as lovers
were wont to say,
"Death is strong, but Love is stronger; there is
night and then there is day; "
Their souls can whisper no more, " There is better
than sleep in the sod,
We await the ineffable shore, and between us two
there is God: "
Nay now without hope or dream must true friend
sever from friend,
With the long years worse than they seem, and
nothingness black at the end:
And the darkness of death is upon her, the light of
his eyes is dim,
But Honour has spoken, Honour, enough for her
and for him.
Oh what shall he do with the vision, when deep in
the night it comes,
With soul and body's division, with tremor of dream
land drums;
When his heart is broken and tender, and his whole
soul rises and cries
For the soft waist swaying and slender, the childlike
passionate eyes?
Or where shall she turn to deliver her life from the
longing unrest,
When sweet sleep flies with a shiver, and her heart
is alone in her breast?
It is hard, it is cruel upon her, her soft eyes glow
and are dim,
But Honour has spoken, Honour, enough for her
and for him.
I had guessed not, did I not know, that the spirit of
man was so strong
To prefer irredeemable woe to the slightest shadow
of wrong;
I had guessed not, had I not known, that twain in
their last emprize,
Full-souled, and awake, and alone, with the whole
world's love in their eyes,
With no faith in God to appal them, no fear of man
in their breast,
With nothing but Honour to call them, could yet
find Honour the best,- -
Could stay the stream of the river and turn the tides
of the sea,
Give back that gift to the giver, thine heart to the
bosom of thee.