Classic Poem

In the deep grave's charmed chamber,
Lying tranced in breathless slumber,
You may haply not remember.

YOU may not remember whether
It was Spring or Summer weather;
But I know — we two together
At the dim end of the day —
How the fireflies in the twilight
Drifted by like flakes of starlight,
Till o'er floods of flashing moonlight
They were wave-like swept away.

You may not remember any
Word of mine of all the many
Poured out for you there, though then a
Soul inspired spake my love; —
But I knew — and still review it,
All my passion, as with awe it
Welled in speech as from a poet
Gifted of the gods above.

Sleeping here, this hour I grieve in,
You may not remember even
Any kiss I still believe in,
Or caress of ecstasy, —
May not even dream — O can't you? —
That I kneel here — weep here — want you —
Feign me in your grave, to haunt you,
Since you come not back to me!

Vain! ah, vain is all my yearning
As the West's last embers burning
Into ashes, slowly turning
Ever to a denser gray! —
While the fireflies in the twilight
Drift about like flakes of starlight,
Till o'er wastes of wannest moonlight
They are wave-like swept away.