We two in the fever, and fervour, and glow
    Of life's high tide have rejoiced together.
We have looked out over the glittering snow,
    And known we were dwelling in summer weather.
For the seasons are made by the heart, I hold,
    And not by the outdoor heat or cold.

We two in the shadows of pain and fear
    Have journeyed together in dim, dark places,
Where black-robed sorrow walked to and fro,
    And fear and trouble with phantom faces
Peered out upon us, and froze our blood,
    Though June's fair roses were all in bud.

We two have measured all depths, all heights;
    We have bathed in tears, we have sunned in laughter;
We have known all sorrow, and all delights,
    They never could keep us apart hereafter.
Wherever your spirit was sent I know,
    I would find my way in the dark, and go.

If they took my soul into Paradise,
    And told me I must be content without you,
I would weary them so with my homesick cries,
    And the ceaseless questions I asked about you,
They would open the gates and set me free,
    Or else they would find you and bring you to me.

Yesterdays. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
London: Gay & Hancock, 1916.

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