The Parting-Gate

In that old beech-walk, now bestrewn with mast,
And roaring loud — they lingered long and late;
Harsh was the clang of the last homeward gate
That latch'd itself behind them, as they pass'd —
Then kissed and parted. Soon her funeral knell
Tolled from a foreign clime; he did not talk
Nor weep, but shuddered at that stern farewell;
'Twas the last gate in all their lovers'-walk
Without the kiss beyond it! Was it good
To leave him thus, alone with his sad mood,
In that dear footpath, haunted by her smile?
Where they had laughed and loitered, sat and stood?
Alone in life! alone in Moreham wood!
Through all that sweet, forsaken, forest-mile!