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Old Memory
| O thought, fly to her when the end of day | | Awakens an old memory, and say, | | ‘Your strength, that is so
lofty and fierce and kind, | | It might call up a new age, calling to mind | | The queens that were imagined long
ago, | | Is but half yours: he kneaded in the dough | | Through the long years of youth, and who would have
thought | | It all, and more than it all, would come to naught, | | And that dear words meant nothing?’ But
enough, | | For when we have blamed the wind we can blame love; | | Or, if there needs be more, be nothing
said | | That would be harsh for children that have strayed. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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