Sir Gilbert Parker (1862–1932)

WHEN you and I have play’d the little hour,

Have seen the tall subaltern Life to Death

Yield up his sword; and, smiling, draw the breath,

The first long breath of freedom; when the flower

Of Recompense hath flutter’d to our feet,

As to an actor’s; and, the curtain down,

We turn to face each other all alone—

Alone, we two, who never yet did meet,

Alone, and absolute, and free: O then,

O then, most dear, how shall be told the tale?

Clasp’d hands, press’d lips, and so clasp’d hands again;

No words. But as the proud wind fills the sail,

My love to yours shall reach, then one deep moan

Of joy, and then our infinite Alone.