  Once o'er this hill whereon we stand, Just you and I, hand clasp'd in hand Amid the silence, and the space, A mighty battle rent the air, With dying curse and choking prayer; 'Mid shot and shell death stalked apace. Is it conceivable to you— So much at peace—because we two Are close together, or to me? The silent beauty of the noon Seems like a Heaven-granted boon, Aglow with tender ecstasy. A little mist of hazy blue Is slowly hiding from our view The city's domes and slender spires, As thro' a bridal veil the sun Subdued and shy lights one by one The virgin clouds with blushing fires. The wind has fallen; very low We hear his wings brush past, and know He creeps away to dream and rest; How sweet to be alone, to feel You breathe one longing sigh, and steal A little closer to my breast. Is anything worth while but this? We may not perish for a kiss, Yet thus it were not hard to die! War strews the earth with countless dead, And after all is done and said, The end is love, and you and I! |
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