Christopher Pearse Cranch

Sonnet IV

FRIEND, dear as Memory’s joys! of life that 's past
A part, and part of better life to come,
If life to come there be, in some dear home
Beyond the rigid clouds that overcast
Our sundered lives—all that is mine thou hast;—
All thoughts, all sympathies;—though far I roam
From you—by mountains, streams, or ocean’s foam
Divided long—yet ever, first and last,
Our love knows no division. In my soul
And yours, we twin-born spirits of one blood,
Still, as of old, are one. No sea can roll
Between its league-long melancholy flood,
No separate interests, loves, or pressing cares
Disturb the mutual trust our being shares.
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