Dear grey-winged angel, with the mouth set stern 
And time-devouring eyes, the sweetest sweet 
Of kisses when two severed lovers meet 
Is thine; the cruelest ache in hearts that yearn, 
The fears that freeze, the hopes that leap and burn, 
Thine-thine! And thine the drum-and-trumpet beat 
Of hearts that wait for unreturning feet, 
When comes at last the hour of their return. 
Of Love's fair ministers thou art the chief. 
To jaded souls, asleep beside their vows, 
Thou givest hopes, keen joys and vague alarms; 
Beneath thy touch the brown and yellow leaf 
Turns to pink blossom, and the spring-bright boughs 
Frame lovers running to each other's arms.
Absence
written byEthelwyn Wetherald
© Ethelwyn Wetherald


 



