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Home  »  Rudyard Kipling’s Verse  »  The Widower

Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.

The Widower

FOR a season there must be pain—

For a little, little space

I shall lose the sight of her face,

Take back the old life again

While She is at rest in her place.

For a season this pain must endure,

For a little, little while

I shall sigh more often than smile

Till Time shall work me a cure,

And the pitiful days beguile.

For that season we must be apart,

For a little length of years,

Till my life’s last hour nears,

And, above the beat of my heart,

I hear Her voice in my ears.

But I shall not understand—

Being set on some later love,

Shall not know her for whom I strove,

Till she reach me forth her hand,

Saying, “Who but I have the right?”

And out of a troubled night

Shall draw me safe to the land.