Skip to content
1892–1953

II.

Edward Shanks

The time is all so short. One week is much To be without your deep and peaceful eyes, Your soft and all-contenting cheek, the touch Of well-caressing hands. O were we wise

We would not love too strongly, would not bind Life into life so inextricably, That the dumb body suffers with the mind In a sad partnership this agony.

For death will come and swallow up us two, You there, I here, and we shall lie apart, Out of the houses and the woods we knew. Then in the lonely grave, my dust-choked heart

Out of the dust will raise, if it can speak, A threnody for this lost, lovely week.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
II. · Edward Shanks · Poetry Cove