861. Reunited

Gilbert Parker. b. 1862

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.

The Oxford Book of English Verse, HTML edition