White Stains

A FRAGMENT 23 He. And whose strong tide shall bear our spirit out Into the ocean of all happiness Whose bounds are Heaven. She. See ! the scythe of Time Sweeps on to cut the new-born flowers in twain That symbolizes the reluctant hour In which we met—and now the flower is dead And we must part. He. Fond hearts, chaste souls, as one Whose unity is sacred, still shall dwell Together—Not the cold embrace Of “ We shall meet again ”, but let us say The ritual of a lover, being this “ God be with you ! ” She. O heart too dear to me, Too much beloved for lover’s tongue to tell, God be with you ! Farewell, sweet heart ! He. Farewell. (EXEUNT). BESUNT CETERA.