FAREWELL TO A LOST LOVE
by Francis Eaden

Tears tremble on the
branches of my mind
dropping to lifeless pools
in the cavern of my soul.
They echo in the emptiness, flat and leaden,
as they fall, into these dark bays,
Counting out the cadence for the unrelenting days.

I travel, day to day, across
a wasteland without end;
A place without your beauty, dearest friend.
How tedious life will be without you,
without your wit and laughter,
to lift me on my wings.
An earthbound creature, never more to fly,
I'll dwell in endless winter,
beneath a joyless sky.

Goodby, sweet love, goodbye,
until I too shall die.

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"The angels keep their ancient
places;
Turn but a stone and start a wing!
'Tis ye, 'tis your estranged faces,
That miss the many-splendored thing."

Francis Thompson (1859-1907)