The weary, weary year.
When love delays, when love delays and Death
Hath sealed dim lips and mocked young eyes with night,
To love or hate locked calm, indifferent quite,—
Hope's star-eyed acolyte,—what kisses' breath,
What joys can slay regret
Or teach thee to forget!
IV.
THOU hast not loved her, hast not as thou shouldst,