A Question

If there be a land
Where our longings stand,
Like angels strong and sweet
With wings at head and feet,
Released from their long ward
And durance, put on guard
For strength and meetness,
All the stronger for their sweetness,
All the sweeter for their strength,--
In such a land at length,
I wonder, would it ever be
That I could give a little love to thee?


If in such a place
I should see a face
Seen now so long ago
That I should scarcely know
If it might be the same;
And if one spoke my name,
However faintly,
In the old way,--stealing saintly,
Like a chant upon my ear,--
In such a place I fear
Me, it could never, never be
That thou couldst have a little love from me.