Put by thy days like withered flowers
In twilight hidden away:
Memory shall upbuild thee bowers
Sweeter than they.

Hoard not from swiftness of thy stream
The shallowest cruse of tears:
Pools still as heaven shall lovelier dream
In future years.

Squander thy love as she that flings
Her soul away on night;
Lovely are love's far echoings,
Height unto height.

O, make no compact with the sun,
No compact with the moon!
Night falls full-cloaked, and light is gone
Sudden and soon.
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