The Boundary Invisible

BEAUTIFUL world from which I part,
Holding the summer in my heart!
Thou hast been my friend
To the shining end.
In the wide arms of space,
Star, sun, or any place,
What can I gain or miss,
As sweet as this ?
Breath of wet moss, brown buds, and wasting snow,
Oh, thrill me once again before I go!
Too subtle April stirring in the veins;
The maple-light that fires October rains;
Half temptress, guardian half, a solemn moon,
Watched by two, silent, on a night in June;
— Fairer than ye, what things may be or are,
In those strange lands where I must travel far?
Beautiful world to which I go,
Bowing my head before the snow!
While the storm grows old,
Take me, lover cold!
True is thy faith, and kind,
As one I left behind.
Now, dumb and dear as his,
Thy sacred kiss.
Beautiful world for which I start,
Hiding the tremor in my heart!
When my last sun shall dim and dip,
Behind the long hill’s sombre slope,
— Strong be the pæan on my lip,
And, singing to the darkness, tell,
That she, who never passing well
Did grasp the hearty hand of hope,
Gave back to God her failing breath
With trust of Him, and joy of death.