fredag 23. mars 2012

Time, doesn't bring relief for "old" folks...


Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain !
I miss her in the weeping of the rain;
I want her at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane,
But last year's bitter loving must remain.
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide !
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go, - so with relief some quiet place
Where never fell her foot or shone her face
I say, "There is no memory of her here !"
And so stand stricken, so remembering her.

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