GO from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand   Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore   Alone upon the threshold of my door Of individual life I shall command The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand   Serenely in the sunshine as before,   Without the sense of that which I forbore— Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine   With pulses that beat double. What I do And what I dream include thee, as the wine   Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue God for myself, He hears that name of thine,   And sees within my eyes the tears of two.