Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By Van TasselSutphen

1700 Deep Waters

DEATH could not come between us two:

What fear of death could be,

If thou, its shadow passing through,

But turned and looked at me?

Nor yet could pain the vision dim

With misty blur of tears:

The cup now clouded to the brim,

For him who drinketh, clears.

Deep waters could not quench the light,

The tender light that lies,

Like splendor of the Northern night,

In thy unquestioning eyes.

Though wide the wild, unfurrowed sea,

Though high the skylark sings,

My love should build a bridge to thee,

My heart should find its wings.

I could not miss thee in the throng,

Nor pass thy dwelling-place,

No noise of war could drown thy song,

Nor darkness veil thy face.

With thee to mount from earth to sky,

With thee in dust to sleep,

What height for love could be too high,

Or depth for love too deep?