Explore "The Widower" by Rudyard Kipling on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
For a season there must be pain -- / For a little, little space / I shall lose the sight of her face, / Take back the old life again / While She is at rest in her place.
For a season this pain must endure -- / For a little, little while / I shall sigh more often than smile, / Till Time shall work me a cure, / And the pitiful days beguile.
For that season we must be apart, / For a little length of years, / Till my life's last hour nears, / And, above the beat of my heart, / I hear Her voice in my ears.
But I shall not understand -- / Being set on some later love, / Shall not know her for whom I strove, / Till she reach me forth her hand, / Saying, 'Who but I have the right? ' / And out of a troubled night / Shall draw me safe to the land.