 | Poems (1895) |  |
116
XLVI. CHRISTMAS 1866.
He stopp'd beneath the mistletoe, and kiss'dImaginary lips—and then he wept;
Lips which an everlasting silence kept
Within a far-off grave, but did exist
For him most livingly in memory,
With love and music that could never die,
Save with himself: and then, this weakness fled,
If weakness were it, he the revel sought;
Its joyous spirit in his spirit caught,
And only sadness in some minor thought:
“Why did I weep?” unto himself he said;
“Youth, beauty, love, are all renascent here,
“Making a spring time of the dying year;
“And what is gone, I do not think is dead.”
| Poems (1895) | |