To Louisa in the Lane

Meet me again as at that time
In the hollow of the lane;
I will not pass as in my prime
I passed at each day's wane.
— Ah, I remember!
To do it you will have to see
Anew this sorry scene wherein you have ceased to be!

But I will welcome your aspen form
As you gaze wondering round
And say with spectral frail alarm,
" Why am I still here found?
— Ah, I remember!
It is through him with blitheful brow
Who did not love me then but loves and draws me now!"

And I shall answer: " Sweet of eyes,
Carry me with you, Dear,
To where you donned this spirit-guise;
It's better there than here!"
— Till I remember
Such is a deed you cannot do:
Wait must I, till with flung-off flesh I follow you.
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.