A breath | A breath
And a sigh,— | And a sigh,—
How we fly | How we fly
From Death! | From Death!—
A palm | Sing on
Warm pressed, | O our bird!
As we guessed | Thou art heard
Love's psalm. | Alone.
A word | We know
Breathed close, | No life,
And then rose | Neither strife,
The bird | Nor woe,
That cowers | Nor aught
In the wood | But this hour,—
‘ Mid a flood | Love's dower
Of flowers, | Dear bought.—
Till Love's | Death's voice
Heart sighs, | Is away,
Like the cries | And we may
Of doves,— | Rejoice.
Then sings | The bird
His song, | Of our song
Beating strong | May be long
White wings,— | Unheard,
Heart clear | But, Dear,
Though faint, | Bend low;
Like a saint | It is now
In prayer.— | We hear.
He reigns | Dear Heart
In power, | Your kiss!—
And Love's hour | After this
Disdains. | We part.
Forget | A breath
For a day | And a sigh,—
All his sway, | How we fly
Life's fret. | From Death!