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The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
We twain have met like the ships upon the sea,
Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet:
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We twain have met like the ships upon the sea,
Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet:
One little hour! and then, away they speed
On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam,
To meet no more.
Like a plank of driftwood
Tossed on the watery main,
Another plank encountered,
Meets, read more
Like a plank of driftwood
Tossed on the watery main,
Another plank encountered,
Meets, touches, parts again;
So tossed, and drifting ever,
On life's unresting sea,
Men meet, and greet, and sever,
Parting eternally.
Some day, some day of days, threading the street
With idle, heedless pace,
Unlooking for such grace,
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Some day, some day of days, threading the street
With idle, heedless pace,
Unlooking for such grace,
I shall behold your face!
Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet.
And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.
And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.
As two floating planks meet and part on the sea,
O friend! so I met and then drifted from read more
As two floating planks meet and part on the sea,
O friend! so I met and then drifted from thee.
We shall meet but we shall miss her.
We shall meet but we shall miss her.
As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having read more
As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having met, drift once again apart,
So, fleeting is the intercourse of men.
E'en as a traveler meeting with the shade
Of some o'erhung tree, awhile reposes,
Then leaves its shelter to pursue his ways,
So men meet friends, then part with them for ever.
