Tears, idle tears

Ah sad, and strange as in dark summer dawns

The earliest pipe of half –awakened birds

To dying ears, when unto dying eyes

The casement slowly grows a glimmering square

So sad so strange, the days that are no more

Dear as remembered kisses after death,

And sweet as those fancy feigned

On lips that are for others; deep as love,

Deep as first love, and wild with all regrets;

O  Death in life, the days that are no more!