 | The poems of Trumbull Stickney |  |
185
[XVIII
When bye and bye relenting you regret]
When bye and bye relenting you regretAll of these possible and vanished hours,
And, rolling up, the certain tempest scours
Your sky where not another star will set;
When all before your eyes, no longer wet,
By life's memorial paths and fading bowers
Shrivels the remnant of a thousand flowers,
Do not forget, I say, do not forget
The long and lonely hours I burned away,
The lonely days; in pity do recall
What miles of solitude I suffered o'er.
It need not so have been, but you did say
It should be so, and I replied, It shall,
And lo, it is, it is for evermore
| The poems of Trumbull Stickney | |