Explore "Envoy" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When you and I have played 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 has fluttered 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: oh, then, / Oh, then, most dear, how shall be told the tale?
Clasped hands, pressed lips, and so clasped 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.