The Irrevocable

Weep no more, thou weary one;
Tears — and so beloved a face!
Raindrops on a daybreak flower —
Token of cold midnight's grace —
No more radiant are than these.
Both of transient darkness tell;
And but one last beam of morning
Either will dispel.

I thy midnight was. ... Yet word,
Easy, innocent of guile,
Weeping eyes and childlike lips
Have conjured to a smile.
All forgotten, all forgiven.
Why remorse, then? ... Well I know
The few clear stars still mine in heaven
Never shall now as brightly show.
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