Thursday, 16 June 2016


Is it the hour? We leave this resting-place
Made fair by one another for a while …
The long road then, unlit by your faint smile.
Ah! The long road! And you so far away!
Oh, I’ll remember! but … each crawling day
Will pale a little your scarlet lips, each mile
Dull the dear pain of your remembered face.

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