I SHALL forget thee—yes, I shall forget Thee and the Heavens that glorify the night, Those silver summits trembling in the light Of the descended moon, suns that have set, Earth and the shoreless waters, all that yet Has winged my soul for her tempestuous flight— And dreams they send to seek me shall but light On some gray stone wreathed with the violet. Mingling thy dust with men that knew thee not, Of me forgetful then thou'lt not complain, And all we were shall be so much forgot; They who the history of our days rehearse Shall call my grief a phantom of the brain, Thy name a flower wrought in a poet's verse. |