Clear eyes so dim at last,
And cheeks outlive their rose.
Time, heedless of the past,
No loving kindness knows;
Chill unto mortal lip
Still Lethe flows.
Griefs, too, but brief while stay,
And sorrow, being o'er,
Its salt tears shed away,
Woundeth the heart no more.
Stealthily lave these waters
That solemn shore.
Ah, then, sweet face burn on,
While yet quick memory lives!
And Sorrow, ere thou art gone,
Know that my heart forgives--
Ere yet, grown cold in peace,
It loves not, nor grieves.