He is not dead. They do not know,
Who pity her, her secret ease,
How he is near her, how they go,
Her hand in his.

The last sad parting now is done.
She can look back as from afar
And pity her whose dearest one
Went to the War.

Now he is with her every day;
There is no salt dividing sea.
She leans on him in the old way,
Her staff is he.

The folk as they come in and out
Wonder at her pale joy: the while
She in the lightest fear or doubt
Turns to his smile.