Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
Though all these waves went over us and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and glowing hair,
She would not care.
Let us go home and hence; she will not weep,
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
All is reaped now, no grass is left to mow,
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.