Reunion

Ah, hold me fast! What of the day? I care not if the sun be dead, Nor if the stars be gold or gray. Nay, though the rising moon be red, Our dawn is here, our night is past, The world may fade--but hold me fast!

Ah, hold me fast! What of the years? I care not if our youth be fled, Nor that our drink be blood and tears, And bitterness our daily bread. Nay, though the flames of hell be cast-- They light thy face--ah, hold me fast!