Amid the wintry cold of all the world
Of dawns and summer rains I ne’er shall see! . . .
Lightly you loved me, Phaon, long ago,
And there were other arms unknown to me
That folded over you, though none more fond
Than mine that fell so wing-like round your head.
And there were other eyes that drooped as mine
Despairingly before your pleading mouth;
And many were the nights I wept, and learned
How sorrowful is all divided love,