A Season Apart

For a season ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
I shall lose ¦¦¦ sight of her face,
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
While She is at rest in her place.

For a season ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
I shall sigh more often than smile
Till ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ a cure,
¦¦¦ the pitiful days beguile.

For that season we must be apart,
For ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ years,
Till ¦¦¦ life's last hour nears,
And, above ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ my heart,
I hear Her voice in my ears.

But ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ not understand--
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ some later love,
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ for whom I strove,
Till she reach ¦¦¦ forth her hand,
Saying, "Who but I have the right?"
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦ draw me ¦¦¦¦ to the land.


(Blackout of The Widower by Rudyard Kipling)