 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
22
NOT GONE?
O sweet you are not gone? it cannot be,You must be waiting underneath the light,
Amid the perfume of a Northern night,
And soon the moon will rise above the sea
And silver, as of old, the ruin, and we
Shall wander off together out of sight,
It cannot but be so—it is not right
That anything so exquisite should flee!
No, I am certain that you still are there
Under those dreamy pale blue Northern skies,
Not a day older, not an hour, as fair
As ever, with the same delicious eyes,
And panoply of sweetly pert replies,
And with that same divinely-coloured hair.
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