  U UPON the river’s brink I stand Beside the rushing water’s flow, And look from off the shore I know, The safe and dear familiar land, Unto another shore, which lies Mist-veiled beneath the crimsoning skies. This is a shore, and that a shore. Does the earth cease, to rise once more Beyond the river’s span? Ah no! the shores are clasped in one; The same firm earth goes on, goes on, Though hidden for a little space From eye or tread of man. Upon another shore we stand Beside a darker water’s flow, And catch beyond the earth we know Faint glimpses of another land Dreaming in sunshine, half descried Beyond the rushing river-tide. It is life here, and life is there: We look from fair things to most fair, The river rolls between; But held and bound and clasped in one, Immortal life goes on, goes on, Though only from the farther strand The union can be seen. |
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