Fixed Is the Doom by Robert Louis Stevenson

Fixed is the doom; and to the last of years Teacher and taught, friend, lover, parent, child, Each walks, though near, yet separate; each beholds His dear ones shine beyond him like the stars. We also, love, forever dwell apart; With cries approach, with cries behold the gulf, The Unvaulted; as two great eagles that do wheel in air Above a mountain, and with screams confer, Far heard athwart the cedars. Yet the years Shall bring us ever nearer; day by day Endearing, week by week, till death at last Dissolve that long divorce. By faith we love, Not knowledge; and by faith, though far removed, Dwell as in perfect nearness, heart to heart. We but excuse Those things we merely are; and to our souls A brave deception cherish. So from unhappy war a man returns Unfearing, or the seaman from the deep; So from cool night and woodlands to a feast May someone enter, and still breathe of dews, And in her eyes still wear the dusky night.