University of Virginia Library


59

XLIV. “WHEN I AM DEAD.”

When I am dead, and thou art still quite young,
By this song wilt thou then remember me?
That much I have the right to ask of thee:
Remember how I loved thee,—how I sung.
Summers so many, bright and blossom-strung,
Are yet before thee. Many a summer sea
Will hear thy laughter, and its silvery glee
Will seem to it hoarse-toned, once thy laugh has rung.
I would leave something sweet and pure and strong
By which thou mayest remember me when I
Mix no more with the sea's voice my love-song
Nor my love's wings with the blue loving sky:—
I write this book, to show how I loved thee:
Think “If his soul lives, still that soul loves me”.