Greeting

What comfort can I send thee sweet, 
  Save that Pain is—we know not why, 
  Save that Pain lives—and will not die?
What comfort? I can but repeat 
    The old philosophy. 

Bear and be patient O my sweet! 
  Pain is—but is our pleasure over? 
  Pain lives—but live I not thy lover,
Through all the changes we may meet 
    And all new years discover?

What comfort can I send thee sweet? 
  Pain is—and none may flee from it, 
  Pain lives—nor softens any whit—
A fire with a constant heat
    Our birth sees firstly lit.

Bear and be patient O my sweet!
  Pain is—and none can tell us why
  Pain lives—and dies not till we die, 
Till the heart's pulse has ceased to beat.
    And after—then come I.