Did you never know, long ago, how much you loved me, That your love would never lessen and never go? You were young then, proud and fresh-hearted, You were too young to know. Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly before it Far apart, far away in the gusty time of year, Seldom we meet now, but when I hear you speaking, I know your secret, my dear, my dear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHER JONATHAN'S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE [DECEMBER 2O, 1860] by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES HAILSTORM IN MAY by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS TO TWO BEREAVED by THOMAS ASHE SONNET: 19 by RICHARD BARNFIELD LETTER TO B.W. PROCTOR, ESQ., FROM OXFORD; MAY, 1825 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO MRS W. ON HER EXCELLENT VERSES WRITTEN IN A FIT OF SICKNESS by APHRA BEHN TO --, WITH ARTHUR AND ALBINA by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS OMEN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TANNHAUSER; OR, THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |