And, doubtless, unto thee is given
⁠A life that bears immortal fruit
⁠In those great offices that suit
The full-grown energies of heaven.

Ay me, the difference I discern!
⁠How often shall her old fireside
⁠Be cheer'd with tidings of the bride,
How often she herself return,

And tell them all they would have told,
⁠And bring her babe, and make her boast,
⁠Till even those that miss'd her most
Shall count new things as dear as old:

But thou and I have shaken hands,
⁠Till growing winters lay me low;
⁠My paths are in the fields I know,
And thine in undiscover'd lands.