  How did we dim that wistful dream, That shy first love without caress, That breathless wonder, that supreme Vision of all love's loveliness? For surely had we parted then, Kissed once with tears and said Good-bye, We had been speaking truly when We said our love could never die. Because we did a moment cling, With trembling senses cling and kiss— Does it not seem a bitter thing That bliss should die of too much bliss? Love is a fair and fragile flower Which Youth must needs, poor foolish boy, Pluck greedily....Within the hour He weeps to see his withered joy. |
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