My love, we know how species run extinct,
And greenest plants grow to fossils in time,
Mountains go molten and run to the sea,
That our careful ideas, all we think,
Will be forgotten, that continents climb
And drop, shift away, collide endlessly;
My love, we know the universe must bend
Until it ends, entropy will labor
Until all is cold and flat, that stars close
Across icy gulfs, suns crash. All things end.
Do not wish our love could last forever,
Or grieve that it is one more thing we lose,
Only that we drive through the dark weather,
Through the gray, through night, and end together.
Originally in The New York Sun
-– Ernest Hilbert