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Three Kisses Of Farewell Post by :tigermiss Category :Poems Author :Helen Hunt Jackson Date :September 2011 Read :1050

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Three Kisses Of Farewell

"Three, only three my darling,
Separate, solemn, slow;
Not like the swift and joyous ones
We used to know
When we kissed because we loved each other
Simply to taste love's sweet,
And lavished our kisses as the summer
Lavishes heat,--
But as they kiss whose hearts are wrung,
When hope and fear are spent,
And nothing is left to give, except
A sacrament!

"First of the three, my darling,
Is sacred unto pain;
We have hurt each other often;
We shall again,
When we pine because we miss each other,
And do not understand
How the written words are so much colder
Than eye and hand.
I kiss thee, dear, for all such pain
Which we may give or take;
Buried, forgiven, before it comes
For our love's sake!

"The second kiss, my darling,
Is full of joy's sweet thrill;
We have blessed each other always;
We always will.
We shall reach until we feel each other,
Past all of time and space;
We shall listen till we hear each other
In every place;
The earth is full of messengers,
Which love sends to and fro;
I kiss thee, darling, for all joy
Which we shall know!

"The last kiss, oh, my darling,
My love--I cannot see
Through my tears, as I remember
What it may be.
We may die and never see each other,
Die with no time to give
Any sign that our hearts are faithful
To die, as live.
Token of what they will not see
Who see our parting breath,
This one last kiss, my darling, seals
The seal of death!"

(The end)
Helen Hunt Jackson's poem: Three Kisses Of Farewell

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"O Love, who walkest slow among my sheaves, Smiling at tint and shape, thy smile of peace, But whispering of the next sweet year's increase,-- O tender Love, thy loving hope but grieves My heart! I rue my harvest, if it leaves Thee vainly waiting after harvests cease, Like one who has been mocked by title lease To barren fields. Dear one, my word deceives Thee never. Hearts one summer have. Their grain

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With sails full set, the ship her anchor weighs; Strange names shine out beneath her figure-head: What glad farewells with eager eyes are said! What cheer for him who goes, and him who stays! Fair skies, rich lands, new homes, and untried days Some go to seek: the rest but wait instead Until the next stanch ship her flag shall raise. Who knows what myriad colonies there are Of fairest fields, and rich, undreamed-of gains, Thick-planted in the distant shining plains Which we call sky because they lie so far?