A Little While

A little while a little love
The hour yet bears for thee and me
Who have not drawn the veil to see
If still our heaven be lit above.
Thou merely, at the day's last sigh,
Hast felt thy soul prolong the tone;
And I have heard the night-wind cry
And deemed its speech mine own.

A little while a little love
The scattering autumn hoards for us
Whose bower is not yet ruinous
Nor quite unleaved our songless grove.
Only across the shaken boughs
We hear the flood-tides seek the sea,
And deep in both our hearts they rouse
One wail for thee and me.

A little while a little love
May yet be ours who have not said
The word it makes our eyes afraid
To know that each is thinking of.
Not yet the end: be our lips dumb
In smiles a little season yet:
I'll tell thee, when the end is come,
How we may best forget.

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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Comments (3)

Some perceive safety in death. However, I suppose the enemies in time of war might find safety in the grave as well. But - as Shakespeare pointed out- - perhaps those in the grave dream. If so there is no escape. Safety does not seem to be a possibility here on earth or in it but there would be safety in heaven where one could find The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying, And sleep, and freedom
Safety is of paramount importance is times of war and peace. Nice and meaningful poem and thought provoking too. Thanks for sharing.
Safety is the key about life; to overcome the odds. Nice work.