Beyond the pale of memory,
In some mysterious dusky grove;
A place of shadows utterly,
Where never coos the turtle-dove,
A world forgotten of the sun:
I dreamed we met when day was done,
And marvelled at our ancient love.
Met there by chance, long kept apart,
We wandered through the darkling glades;
And that old language of the heart
We sought to speak: alas! poor shades!
Over our pallid lips had run
The waters of oblivion,
Which crown all loves of men or maids.
In vain we stammered: from afar
Our old desire shone cold and dead:
That time was distant as a star,
When eyes were bright and lips were red.
And still we went with downcast eye
And no delight in being nigh,
Poor shadows most uncomforted.
Ah, Lalage! while life is ours,
Hoard not thy beauty rose and white,
But pluck the pretty fleeing flowers
That deck our little path of light:
For all too soon we twain shall tread
The bitter pastures of the dead:
Estranged, sad spectres of the night.
(Ernest Dowson)
More Poetry from Ernest Dowson:
Ernest Dowson Poems based on Topics: Love, Night, Time, World, Man, Sadness, Memory, Mystery, Life, Place, Light- In A Breton Cemetery (Ernest Dowson Poem)
- Nuns Of The Perpetual Adoration (Ernest Dowson Poem)
- Jadis (Ernest Dowson Poem)
- To One In Bedlam (Ernest Dowson Poem)
- Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam (Ernest Dowson Poem)
- Exchanges (Ernest Dowson Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, Life Poems, World Poems, Night Poems, Light Poems, Sadness Poems, Time Poems, Place Poems, Speaking Poems, Memory PoemsBased on Keywords: language, wandered, maids, oblivion, pluck, twain, utterly, dusky, fleeing, darkling, estranged