Love Without Wings
I love you not; you love me not; I know it!
But when the day is long
I haunt you like the magic of a poet,
And charm you like a song.
viii.
O Death of things that are, Eternity
Of things that seem!
Of all the happy past remains to me,
To-day, a dream!
Long blessed days of love and wakening thought.
All, all are dead ;
Nothing endures we did, nothing we wrought.
Nothing we said.
But once I dreamed I sat and sang with you
On Ida's hill.
There, in the echoes of my life, we two
Are singing still.
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