Poetry Sunday: Song by Edith Wharton

Occasionally one comes across a poem that says exactly what one would say if one were a poet. Here is such a poem that speaks for me. This one is for Bob.
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 of 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.

Comments

  1. Brian JosephJanuary 26, 2020 at 5:06 AM

    Thanks for sharing. I have not read much of Wharton’s poetry. It seems that it may be worth reading more.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 26, 2020 at 9:39 AM

      The little bit of her poetry that I have read has been quite evocative and affecting.

      Delete
  2. David M. Gascoigne,January 26, 2020 at 5:54 AM

    It is very beautiful indeed, Dorothy, and if we find the partner in life with whom we wish to live out all our days in this way, we are blessed beyond measure. A friend of mine died a couple of month ago at the age of ninety-four. His wife is ninety, still living in the home they shared together, and if ever I met a couple who epitomized these sentiments it is them,

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 26, 2020 at 9:41 AM

      "Blessed beyond measure" is a good way of expressing it. I'm sure your friends felt that way, as do I.

      Delete
  3. Judy KruegerJanuary 26, 2020 at 12:16 PM

    I did not even know that Edith Wharton wrote poetry. Very good. I feel that way about my husband.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Captivated ReaderJanuary 26, 2020 at 12:48 PM

    Love this poem! It's the 1st time I've read it. Like, Judy, I never knew that Edith Wharton wrote poetry.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 26, 2020 at 3:04 PM

      Obviously it is not what she was known for, but it seems that she did write quite a bit of poetry.

      Delete
  5. AlanaJanuary 26, 2020 at 1:47 PM

    That poem is beautiful. I can only hope that my husband and I can share life until the end.

    ReplyDelete
  6. The Butterfly ReaderJanuary 28, 2020 at 7:36 PM

    First time ever reading this poem and it is so beautiful that I love it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 28, 2020 at 10:19 PM

      I only happened upon it recently myself. I'm very glad I did.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...
Read more

The Investigator by John Sandford: A review

Image
  I have read a few of John Sandford's books in the Prey series featuring Lucas Davenport. This book is a literal offspring of that series. It's the first in a series featuring Davenport's adopted daughter Letty Davenport. Letty is in her mid-20s and a graduate of Stanford. She works for a U.S. senator named Christopher Colles in a desk job but she's bored with her assignments. Then the senator offers her a chance to go into the field as a liaison between his office and the Department of Homeland Security.  In her first assignment in that position, she is sent to Texas along with DHS investigator John Kaiser to try to find out what is happening in regard to thefts of crude oil. The senator is not so concerned about the lost oil but wants to know where the money from its sale is going. Who is selling the oil and what they are doing with the profits? The suspicion is that a particularly nasty militia group led by a woman is involved. Letty and Kaiser head out to Texas, de...
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...
Read more