Classic Poem

Now say what thing remains
When the smiles fly;
When the lips keep
A stillness deep
As death or sleep,
And the smiles fly;
Now say what thing remains
When the smiles fly.

One thing remains for thee;
From grief's moist sphere.
Without thy call
Ripe fruit will fall
On thee, the thrall
Of Love's last fear;
One thing remains for thee,—
There comes the tear.

Now say what thing remains
When the tears pass;
When from grief sown
New Love upgrown
Leads forth his own,
And the tears pass;
Now say what thing remains
When the tears pass.

One thing remains for thee
Of perfect bliss;
Without thy call
Sweet dew will fall,
To lift Love's thrall
From Death's abyss;
One thing remains for thee,
There comes the kiss.

Now say what thing remains
When kisses die;
When Love's bee slips
Off the pressed lips
And no more sips,
And kisses die;
Now say what thing remains
When kisses die.

One thing remains for thee;
There comes a Dove
Without thy call,
And She lets fall
On thee, Heaven's thrall,
The fruits thereof;
One thing remains for thee,
And that is Love.

Now say what thing remains
When Love grows old;
When the smiles fly.
When the tears dry
When kisses die,
And Love grows old;
Now say what thing remains
When Love grows old.

One thing remains for thee
Or soon or late;
Without thy call
Strange fruit will fall
On thee, the thrall
Of loveless fate;
One thing remains for thee,
And that—is Hate.