Evening Poetry, July 16

Song

by Edith Wharton

Let us be lovers to the end,

O you to whom my soul is given,

Whose smiles have turned this earth to

heaven,

Fast holding hands as we descend

Life’s pathway devious and uneven,

Let us be lovers to the end.

Dear, let us make Time a friend

To bind us closer with his cares,

And though grief strike us unawares

No poisoned shaft that fate can send

Shall wound us through each other’s

prayers,

If we are lovers to the end.

Let us be lovers to the end

And, growing blind as we grow old,

Refuse forever to behold

How age has made the shoulders bend

And Winter blanched the hair’s young gold.

Let us be lovers to the end.

Whichever way our footsteps tend

Be sure that, if we walk together,

They’ll lead to realms of sunny weather,

By shores where quiet waters wend.

At eventide we shall go thither,

If we are lovers to the end.

You can find this poem in the collection Selected Poems of Edith Wharton.

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