After so long an absence
At last we meet again:
Does the meeting give us pleasure,
Or does it give us pain?

The tree of life has been shaken,
And but few of us linger now,
Like the Prophet’s two or three berries
In the top of the uttermost bough.

We cordially greet each other
In the old, familiar tone;
And we think, though we do not say it,
How old and gray he is grown!

We speak of a Merry Christmas
And many a Happy New Year
But each in his heart is thinking
Of those that are not here.

We speak of friends and their fortunes,
And of what they did and said,
Till the dead alone seem living,
And the living alone seem dead.

And at last we hardly distinguish
Between the ghosts and the guests;
And a mist and shadow of sadness
Steals over our merriest jests.

5 thoughts on “The Meeting by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  1. Heartafire says:

    thank you for the poetry by Longfellow, a favorite poet of mine

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ronnie says:

      Thank you, he is one of my favourites too.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Heartafire says:

        when most of us think poet, we thing of Longfellow!


        1. Ronnie says:

          Well, as I am Scottish, I initially think Burns. Longfellow and Wordsworth are up there with him though.


          1. Heartafire says:

            Oh definitely. Keats too! Havr a great day!

            Liked by 1 person

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