  You that were once so sweet, are sweeter now That an even leaden greyness clouds my days; A pain it is to think on your sweet ways, Your careless-tender speaking, tender and low. When the hills enclosed us, hid in happy valleys, Greeting a thousand times the things most dear, We wasted thoughts of love in laughter clear, And told our passion out in mirthful sallies. But in me now a burning impulse rages To praise our love in words like flaming gold, Molten and live for ever; not fit for cold And coward like-to-passions Time assuages. Nor do I fear you are lovely only in dreams, Being as the sky reflected in clear streams. |
|
