The wall between is grown so thin

That whoso peers may see

A flutter of rose, a living green

Like new leaves on a tree.

The wall's now gotten many a chink

Where whoso leans may hear

The feet of them who pass to drink

All at a well clear.

The people go, the people flow

T'other side o' the wall

With silken rustle and laughter low

As to a festival.

Come mother and wife and piteous bride,

The wall's nigh broken through;

And there be some the other side

That peep and pry for you.

So thin has grown, like a precious stone,

The wall no eye might pass,

You may have vision of your own

As through a crystal glass.

And if that sight should you delight

Your tears will all be dried,

For souls so bright that walk in white

Dear bliss on the other side.