Resurrection

Is it your face I see, your voice I hear?         Your face, your voice, again after these years!     O is your cheek once more against my cheek?         And is this blessed rain, angel, your tears?     You have come back, - how strange - out of the grave;         Its dreams are in your eyes, and still there clings     Dust of the grave on your vainglorious hair;         And a mysterious rust is on these rings -     The ring we gave each other, that young night         When the moon rose on our betrothal kiss;     When the sun rose upon our wedding day,         How wonderful it was to give you this!     I dreamed you were a bird or a wild flower,         Some changed lovely thing that was not you;     Maybe, I said, she is the morning star,         A radiance unfathomably far -     And now again you are so strangely near!         Your face, your voice, again after these years!     Is it your face I see, your voice I hear,         And is this blessed rain, angel, your tears?