Classic Poem

But now beneath strange stars our spirits meet.
Those golden flowerbuds of the gracious sky,
That shone upon our youth, when you and I
Found their gold petals, falling on us, sweet —
Those ancient stars are withered with life's heat, —
The golden petals, once so smooth, are dry;
Oh, darling, heave with me one long sweet sigh
For tracks deep-trodden by lone flowerless feet.

The sorrow and loneliness are over truly, —
Life's fresh stars rise and beam upon us newly, —
Yet weep for splendours of the ancient day:
Forget not wholly the most sacred night
Of young love's uttermost and mute delight;
Forget not any flower dropped by the way.