Echo

By Christina Rossetti

Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.

O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,
Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet;
Where thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, letting in, lets out no more.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again though cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low
As long ago, my love, how long ago.

(Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/echo-by-christina-rossetti)

Tomorrow, Friday, I shall be attending the funeral of a former student. We kept in touch over the years & in all that time, he unfailingly addressed me as 'Sir'. Most students make the change from 'Sir' to 'Nigel' or 'Mr.P' eventually, but not M. I remained 'Sir' until his letters stopped.