did you give no hint that night
quickly after the morrow's dawn,
calmly, as if indifferent quite,
would close your term here, up and be gone
I could not follow
wing of swallow
gain one glimpse of you ever anon!
to bid good-bye,
lip me the softest call,
utter a wish for a word, while I
morning harden upon the wall,
your great going
place that moment, and altered all.
do you make me leave the house
think for a breath it is you I see
the end of the alley of bending boughs
so often at dusk you used to be;
in darkening dankness
the perspective sickens me!
were she who abode
those red-veined rocks far West,
were the swan-necked one who rode
the beetling Beeny Crest,
reining nigh me,
muse and eye me,
Life unrolled us its very best.
then, latterly did we not speak,
we not think of those days long dead,
ere your vanishing strive to seek
time's renewal? We might have said,
this bright spring weather
places that once we visited."
well! All's past amend,
It must go.
seem but a dead man held on end
sink down soon. . . . O you could not know
such swift fleeing
even Iówould undo me so!